Many things occurred this week of which I could elaborate upon. Some beads that found their way into our syrup container, some orange bathroom cleaner that was sprayed liberally beneath our dining table by an unlicensed 2-year-old janitor, some purple stamps across the carpet made by a wet raspberry tea bag, a thunderstorm in which a great clap of thunder sounded directly above the house causing much screaming and a mad stampede in which my youngest was thoroughly trampled, a bath-time that saw a roll of tp; a potty seat; and (while I was drying one of the other boys) the toilet bowl scrubber submerged in the cleansing waters against parental approval.
But the clear winner this week was when I set up the little red fan for Sweet Boy #3. It usually sits upon his pillow for 10 minutes at bedtime. After which Sweet Boy#2 gets a turn. This night the room was dark as I turned it on and I noticed a flash, then another. I looked closer and the fan seemed to be sparking. I quickly unplugged it and brought the offending appliance out into the light. The cord looked to be halfway chewed and had copper wiring exposed.
Not something I’d want resting upon my son’s pillow all night. Thank God that the situation was just right for me to notice the spark. And that our house and toddler bed did not burn to the ground.
I think that my three cyclones have very large muscular angels rushing in their wake. There was probably an elaborate interview process when I was pregnant as The Lord knew each of them from the creation of the world and was also privy to their exact genetics. God help us for they are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Perhaps with a tad too much weight put upon the “fearful” element.