I truly believe that when they lay their sweet angel heads on their pillows at night, ever manner and sweetness I have taught them leaks out their ears. You just thought that was drool. It's not. It's "please and thank you and showers and hand washing." Amen
Anyhoo, but sometimes - just sometimes- God himself shines down in his glory and love and gives me hope that maybe, possible, there could be a slight chance that I am not failing at this freakishly hard thang called "motherhood"
My two boy spawn (Middle Twerp and Baby Twerp) were playing Connect Four in the playroom after we had spent the morning picking out granite and cabinet hardware. This only lead to me giving THE LOOK forty eleven times and inevitably making them call me Aunt Country Girl so it could not longer be assumed they were genetically tied to my womb.
Anyhoo -- it was not the best of days.
And I locked them in the playroom and said only come get me if there is blood. And it needs to be a lot of blood. A whole lot.
And soon I heard, "Nunt uh. Is not. You're cheating. I'm telling!!!"
And then... silence.
Which all mother's know is worse than blood.
So I peeked in. Expecting to see someone decapitated. Or worse, covered in Sharpie marker while eating glue.
But what I saw was a sweet game of Connect Four starting.
And two angelic faces looking back at me.
ME: "What's going on?"
BT: "Nuffin. We's just pwaying." (says BT in his daring speech impediment voice)
ME: "Oh. Silly me. I thought you were fighting over who won."
ME; "Oh who one the last game?"
BT: "No one. Just wove"
ME: "LOVE won?!?!?"
BT: "Yea, Wove always wins."
And at that moment, I melted. If he learns nothing else in this life, he knows that wove always wins.
Although I dearly pray he also learns his "L sound".