The Best Gifts of Christmas: Embracing Imperfect and Boys At Play
The Silicon Valley of California was once known as the Valley of Heart’s Delight. Romantic, eh? A veritable garden of produce, orchards and vineyards.
But only 15 inches of average rainfall a year.
Louisiana, Florida, Texas…they see that much rain in a week.
The sun shines almost all the time, and we are somewhat dumbfounded to be trapped indoors by weather.
It has been raining all week – well beyond cats and dogs, it’s been ponies of rainfall. Torrential and cold, too cold to splash in.
We’ve been stuck inside for a few days now. Long days. Vacation days. Unbroken by schedule or school.
Little boys tend to get stir-crazy indoors. Rambunctious energy spilling out of bedrooms into the hallway. Fights break out. Everything becomes a weapon (yes, even toilet brushes…side postscript below)
But this year something new emerged. Camaraderie, companionship…the two brothers born four years apart finally on a more even playing field; the younger old enough to learn the rules of Monopoly and Slap Jack.
We sat in wonder as they actually…played…together.
LEGOs and Avengers, they dreamed a roller coaster out of a chair, two walking sticks and some blankets.
Even as I write they are playing Monopoly on the floor. Monopoly!
There have been fights, of course, being that they are normal, red-blooded, testosterone-infused little men.
Our response? You fight, you clean. They scrubbed the kitchen cabinets and mopped the kitchen floor. They even vacuumed until I caught one of them suctioning water out of the bathtub…while his brother was in it.
It’s been a great holiday despite my atrocious,sneezing, snuffling cold. We shared a delightful evening with friends and family around our extra, extra, extra long dining room table. Everything perfect – lights twinkling, candles glowing, food hot, wine poured, desserts done to a turn…
Until, late in the evening, I glanced into the corner of the dining room to see something I had forgotten hours before.
A toilet brush.
In my dining room.
I had been making a final pass through the house and baths before guests arrived, and being in possession of only one toilet brush, I carried it with me from one end of the house to the other. But I stopped in the dining room to check on other things and completely forgot about the offending article.
I don’t think anyone saw it. (I hope.)
It was a lesson in life, that lowly article of foul necessity. No matter how hard I try for perfect…I’ll never achieve it.
Might as well embrace imperfect and have a good laugh.
P.S. As my Facebook followers inquired…why don’t I keep a toilet brush in each bath? Simple. Two boys: Everything’s a weapon. The last toilet brush sword fight ended the convenience, and I keep one, safely in the master bath, to be used under my personal supervision only.
And Christmas dinner, of course.