Is There Anything We Can Do to Help, Honey?

I HAD a smile on my face as my silent afternoon was livened up by my men—competing once again, playing still. Ever playful—that is what men are! They are truly little boys wrapped up in manly bodies! It is never boring around my home! There is always a competition in place. There are constantly jeers and sneers and rough housing and games and aggression taking place. Then, just every now and then, one of them will notice me. They will see me doing what it is I do. It may be my husband or one of my older sons. Suddenly, in the moment, I will be noticed. I will get a cursory glance, a perfunctory invite to join them, or I will get—“Is there anything we can do to help you?” as they notice that I am in the throws of serving up their next meal or folding their clothes or cleaning up their mess.

Now, mind you, it usually is sincere in its intent, but not necessarily so sincere in a true desire to stop competing, to stop playing, to actually clean or cook or serve. But I recognize the good-will behind the gesture. I laugh, almost always, because the timing is impeccable. It is always right at the perfect moment when there is very little left to do. If I had waited to begin my endeavors to that moment when one of my men realized that it was time for dinner, we would all starve to death! LOL! I love it when my husband will, at the VERY LAST minute, remind me of something. It is almost inevitably way too late to be able to rectify the situation had I actually forgotten. Still, it is the thought behind the reminder that counts! Right?

Sunday, I put a roast in the oven-before we left-with carrots and potatoes. When we got in the house from church it smelled so good. My men were like, “Oh! Yeah! Smells good mom!” Then … you know … go ahead … take a guess … “Let’s race!” So, they all congregated once again in front of the TV to race one another on the imaginary race track! As I worked in the kitchen (Though, admittedly, most of the work was done prior), to get their food on the table I was entertained by shouts and screams of: “No way! You did not just shoot me!” “Hey, you don’t have to blow me up when you pass me!” (That was their dad whining again about always being last! LOL.) There were cries of, “I won!” There were taunts of, “If you don’t win this one you don’t get to race in the finale!" You have to win at least one race to race in Rainbow Road (the final race of their tour). I heard “I still won more than you!” and other such godly bragging!