“Children seldom misquote you. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said.” Author unknown.
I know this is true. When my daughter was about three, I was innocently walking through a department store when a fabulously cushy sofa and a marvelously upholstered chair sidetracked my attention. My longing was immediate. Had those pieces extended their stylish wooden legs and literally tripped me I would have been no less smitten. I called my husband from the parking garage and told him it was likely I would perish if I didn’t order both pieces. He reminded me that I was the financial wizard in the family and to do what I thought was best. (Do I have a great husband, or what?)
The furniture was delivered and it wasn’t long before the cat decided the chair was his.
And were that not enough, my sweet daughter took to mercilessly bouncing on the irresistible couch. I was aghast. So I pleaded. “Mommy will have to work lots of hours before that couch is paid off, let’s not stand and bounce!” My daughter attended an early childhood program and one of the things accomplished during circle time was “morning news.” The teacher wrote news highlights (as described by the children) on her oversized easel tablet for trouble-free viewing. Imagine my mortification when I arrived one afternoon and read, “Aubrey’s mother has to work long hours to pay off the furniture.” I was passing along my legacy in large red marker.
As a school nurse I hear many things that would make stoic parents cringe. A first grader was resting in the dark under an ice pack, nursing a miserable headache. After 10 minutes, I asked how his head was feeling. Never opening his eyes, he thoughtfully responded. “It is still hurting pretty much, but not nearly as much as it was last night when my mother was screaming at my sister!” Another legacy.
I, for one, wish to pass along something a bit more substantial. I hope and pray that my words and actions describing God’s generosity and faithfulness to me have made deeper and more lasting impressions than my day to day human shortcomings.
And for the record, it should be noted that 13 years later I still have (and love) my couch…
