Told ya.
So now I present to you my version. Which I worked and worked on and never could even get close to Betty's. Oh well.
If You Give A MamaHen A Sharpie:
If you give a MamaHen a Sharpie she will sit and look at that lovely pointed little tip which has never been marred and pushed into a piece of paper till it is a distant memory of the tip it once was...
After looking at the tip for awhile she will decide something needs labeling..
The whole schoolroom hallway (yep, I don't have a room, I have a hallway) ! Yes! The whole school hallway! If you're gonna label you might as well label big, right?
So she proceeds to pull everything out of the shelves and cabinets and decides that she needs to arrange all the books and papers by child, grade, and all the things that she is going to save for James. They all need to be labeled in cute little bins with matching labels. Because if they are going to be pushed to the back of the cabinet never to be seen again until James is about two years past the appropriate age to use them then they need to be in cute labeled bins.
So MamaHen leaves the scattered disorganized mess and loads up the children to "run to Target" to find some cute little bins. While there she remembers she needs milk, bread, toilet paper, and good grief, a Caramello bar would help me have the energy to finish the job at home, right?
She comes home with her cute bins and sits down in the middle of the mess and looks around in despair. She realizes she can't finish this big job before it is time to cook supper. And she starts sneezing ferociously because of all the dust that has been stirred up. And a heavy feeling starts to permeate her being as all the guilt feelings she has about not being a good housekeeper start to weigh upon her spirit.
And she calls Rebekah who reminds her she is doing the best she can and that is all she can do and that I will never get these times back with my children and I need to focus on them and all that stuff she says to cheer me up. And I start to think about the grace of God and I remember that song we sang in church and maybe I need to look it up on YouTube and then I will feel better.
Two hours later (ahem), Mark calls to say he is on his way home and I run back to the bins. I decide that really, they don't HAVE to be labeled by grade and child, and maybe I could just put the books back in the bins and do a "deep sort" later.
I get them in the bins and reach for my Sharpie to add the pretty little label and it is nowhere to be found. Upon further interrogation it is realized my Sharpie has been being used by the five year old all day to decorate Sadie the Dog. And the pretty little tip is marred beyond use.
And I vow never to start a big project again.
Until next time when the Siren Song of the Sharpie pulls me over to that aisle in WalMart.
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