Take Time to Laugh

So tonight Tim had a wonderful and sweet idea to take us all 4 out to hit the DQ drive-thru for mini blizzards (at a buck-49, how could you go wrong?). We loaded up in the van, drove to Troy for 2 extra tiny but still satisfying delights, and came home. I stood on the porch holding the car seat on my arm waiting for Tim to let us in the back door and he looked at me with a "let's get on with this already" look as if I was supposed to unlock the back door. Mind you, I rarely lock our door because fumbling in the cold to find my keys with 2 teeth-chattering little ones is simply too much work. If someone want to break in, I don't think they'll let a puny lock stop them. Plus, no one wants anything in our house (except maybe my secret chocolate stash). Tim, on the other hand, locks the door every time he leaves, which includes tonight. Anyway, back to the story, neither of us had house keys.

I gave him my best "Fix this NOW!" look and grumbled that I was taking the kids to Miss Sherry's house until he found a way to get us in. I was mad. No... furious. No... flames-shooting-out my-ears-enraged. As I began to stomp southward to our sweet neighbor's house, I turned back long enough to see Tim was weaseling the kitchen window open. "Well, stink!" I thought to myself. I knew I was going to have to help him.

I stomped back to the open window, which only opens about 15 inches and is a good 6 or 7 feet off the ground (it was well over Tim's head). He put his hands together and gave me a silly grin that offered a boost up into the window. I smiled and thought, "At least this will get us in the house." So I put my foot in his hands and stepped up, barely reaching the window. Eli was laughing, Tim began to laugh, I was laughing a little bit. I would have been all out giggling, but I was too busy having my abs ripped to shreds by the uneven metal casing around the window. And as I was struggling to pull myself through the window that was obviously installed FAR too high, I broke wind. Which in turn led to uncontrollable laughter from everyone. Even Emmanuel was giggling! It took a good 2 or 3 minutes for me to wrangle myself through the window, but after I fought through the stupid blinds and got my feet unstuck, I landed with a "ker-THUD!" taking out the trash can and kitchen island in the process. Tim's laughter stopped and he yelled, "Are you okay?" My only response was boughts of laughter separated by groans of pain. I unlocked the door, Tim brought the kids in, and we dried the tears that the belly laughter had brought on.

Tim was unselfishly noble enough to look me over top to bottom, back up the top again, and a good look all around me for any bruises or lacerations (which there are a few). I'm in one piece, the kids are in the warm house, and Tim isn't in the doghouse. Most importantly, I came out with a good lesson.

I need to be much less high strung. I need to take a chill pill and make some lemonade when life issues a bowl of lemons! I need to be much gentler on Tim, not be so quick to bark at Eli, and treat others with love and kindness, just as Christ is with me! The Bible tells us, "Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger." See James 1:19. I have a feeling Jesus was a fun guy to hang around with. I truly believe God has a sense of humor. Let's be sure to join Him in laughter!

And PS- don't tell anyone I farted. Thanks.

Gwenny