Spray paint, chocolate sauce and silly string

The parts of my hair that were not covered in pink, green and blue spray paint were caked with ketchup and chocolate sauce, my arsenal of Redi-whip securely hung in my tool belt, my tomb raider size water guns were snug in my grasp as I snuck around the side of the house hunting down my pint size adversary who was ready to launch anything sticky and sweet in my direction.  Then I felt it hit me on the back of my head, its liquid slithering its way down my back.

A tomato…

Really?

It was war, flipping the safety on my squirt guns that were no match for the rapid fire water balloons that were being launched from the sniper fire behind the bushes.

And then

The ground began to rumble, the thunder grew closer, peeling the silly string away that was obscuring my vision

It was something big

It was something purple

It looked like Barney, but it had four legs

Headed straight for me

I dove for cover

And then it was on top of me

Drool dripping down my face

You painted the dog purple!!?

Your mother is never going to let me babysit again.

Laughter erupting from his little belly as he lay on the ground in a heap of giggles while I surveyed the pool of rubble that surrounded us on the front lawn.

How did these moments become so few and far between?

When did I lose sight of these simple things?  Did I ever have sight of them to begin with?  

These simple moments when nothing else mattered than how much chocolate sauce, whip cream and silly string we could fire off at one another.  When my to do list sat unattended on the counter, when I rejoiced and was glad in the moment God had given me, when I was fully present in the moment.

It will not be the clean closet or perfectly vacuumed carpet that will be remembered.

Whatever it was that I was sitting at my computer working on that was a really big deal to me at the time will long be forgotten. 

It will be those moments of spray paint, chocolate sauce and silly string that will be locked away in our memories that will be reminisced and laughed about over family dinners.

Matthew 18:3

And I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

This doesn’t mean I should to shirk my responsibilities; working is good, the Bible tells us we must work and we must work like we are working for Jesus, but the song Cats in the Cradle is ringing through my head right now.

I have not fully taken hold of this yet, but I don’t want to take this life or myself too seriously that there aren’t enough of these moments or that I let them so carelessly slip from my grasp when they are given to me. 

I let my mind wander to when he is a grown man and he will say to me

Auntie Kandi remember the time of spray paint, chocolate sauce and silly string…

And I reply, “Yes baby I do”

It is those moments that will be remembered.