We had hardwood floors installed in our living room and kitchen last week. Who knew that this would mean complete mayhem and mess in our home for weeks to come?
DUST. I mean layers and layers of sneeze provoking, smoke-alarm causing, lung-clogging DUST. We are still getting things back in order and we are about finished. Still, anyone who has ever had to clear out closets and shelves know that once that stuff comes out you realize you can't just shove it back in there like you didn't know it was there. Cause that is what we were doing. Pretending like it wasn't there.
And oh, how content I was to pretend.
But no more. Matchbox cars, 3-year old chicken nuggets, bobby pins, CD cases, bouncy balls, and earring backs must all be placed in their proper homes.
Oh, and the Big....Hairy....Gigantic....Hairy....Hairballs. You know, the kind that came out from behind the fridge with their hands on their hips demanding to know WHO HAD DISTURBED THEIR SLUMBER? Those balls of hairiness were the worst. You would be led to believe that someone in our family had been shaved bald from head to toe at least
One. Dozen. Times. in order to compile such large quantities of hair.
So anyway, we are moving back into our living room, cleaning out closets and killing off hairballs, when my oldest and most saintly child of the day finds a Christmas card from 1991 (not a lie) with a photograph inside.
I am 19 years old and newly married and posing with my family. My very tall & curly hair is about to the middle of my back and my eyebrows have a fightin' chance at being nearly as bushy as my hairdo. I am wearing a considerable amount of makeup and a cream colored "Units" outfit. If I am not shouting 1991, then nobody is.
From the photo, you would presume that my confidence level should be at an all time high....and it was.
Then my sweetest daughter of the day, who had vacuumed the entire downstairs, dusted, cleaned and worked her sweetest little tail off looked at this photo and said these words.....
"Oh, momma. You look just like a young girl who is trying to be a grown-up woman."
If she only knew how true that was. Hello? 19 & married, remember? Certainly trying would be a necessary trait at making this leap into adulthood. Then she says....
"Except that back then.....grown-up women must have looked like dorks."
Then all the sweetness blew through the air like a popped balloon.
And then I laughed really hard, blew some more dust out of nose and thanked God for tweezers.