The Inspiration:
A story:
There were broken lamps, muddy footprints, the endless parade of questions and kittens. She was a blur throughout the days, a whirling dervish of scabbed elbows and knobby knees.
There were too many times I was exhausted and exasperated, thinking “Grow up! Grow up! Grow up!”
And suddenly, too quickly, when I wasn’t looking – she did.
The house fell quiet. I yearned to walk down the hall to discover muddy footprints. Too long too quiet.
Until I was given another chance. The mini-she, whirling through my home and heart.
This time I slow down, dancing through the mud with her.
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Now, your turn.
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The Browns’ dog is loose again. He’s never been a problem, but I just don’t like Pit Bulls. I can see Linda in her back yard, but I still should let her know, just in case. We had a nice, little neighborly talk, and I excused myself to get back to sorting the laundry.
Since we didn’t have a basement, the laundry was in the garage. Btu as soon as I saw the door from the garage to the house was opened, it hit me like lightening: Paul!
Paul was only 15 months old, but he had been walking by 8 months, and he could now reach a door handle and open it. So I rushed into the house yelling for him, but got no response, as usual. I did a quick look through the house, hollering into every room. Nothing. I couldn’t find him anywhere.
Within a minute, it seemed, every neighbor had been called, and everyone was looking everywhere. Most people, including myself, headed to the creek. We had a hard rain overnight and for sure the creek would be up. His older brothers and sisters would take him with them when they went to play in the creek, and for such a young, little guy he sure could catch tadpoles. That would be the first place he would go.
After what seemed like an eternity looking, I ran back to the house to call the sheriff. The first thing in the house after going thought the garage door was the door to the mud closet. I remembered that that was the first place I looked. I also realized then, that the door had been open. We never left doors open with Paul in the house, and the doors that could lead to dangerous places had hook locks that he couldn’t reach. The mud closet had a door without a hook.
I decided to open the door ad look again before heading to the phone. There was a muddy little boot sticking out from under a couple of hoodie sweatshirts. Except that this boot had a couple of toes. And there, asleep under the hoodies, was Paul. I picked him up, almost crushing him, and ran back outside screaming to the neighbors, “I have him! I have him!”
He was by no means a shy little boy, and he just loved all the hugs and kisses from everyone. But he would never remember one of the happiest moments of his/our lives.