I was thinking about you this morning as I tried once again to get out the door….on time….for church. I thought of the many things you will not experience as a mother of all males. You will never –
- Have to get out of the shower dripping wet to hunt down your razor that the girls “just had to” use during their Saturday night “shaving party” ritual. (and give the lecture for the “umteenth” time about not using my razor!)
- Get back in the shower to find out that the shaving cream is completly empty – scream at the top of your lungs – to no avail – for someone to bring me the shaving cream from the other bathroom. (only to strip my vocal chords, finally give up & just steal Dan’s shaving cream from the medicine cabinet…thanks honey!)
- Listen to the constant battle for the mirror, curling irons and hair accessories.
- Watch your five year old try on four different dresses with a complete meltdown in between each one, before deciding on the “perfect” one. (that I had suggested in the first place!)
- Once again, go and retreive my mousse from the girls bathroom….grrrrrr!
- Exclaim – “No! We do not have time for you to paint your nails” as I catch a wift of nail polish drifting down the hallway
- Throw every pair of shoes out of the closet only to conclude that one of your daughters has borrowed your dress shoes and has already left with Dad for Sunday School. (my shoes are the only thing of mine that come even remotly close to fitting them – but watch out girls – another 30 pounds and I just might be raiding your closet before church!)
- Walk through the hall and almost pass out from the fumes of hair spray, mousse, perfume and nail polish!
- Listen to the constant Sunday morning complaint – “I have nothing to wear!” (do boys EVER say that??) – I’m not sure what their closet & drawers are filled with – but apparently it is nothing!
- To finally get in the car only to look in the rear view mirror and realize that your youngest has not brushed her hair and looks like an orphan child. (and of course we do not have a brush in the car.) Oh well! We are already late…it will have to do. (and yes I am sure her children’s church teacher thinks my husband is a widower by the way she looks on many a Sunday morning)
Ah, the joy of daughters. Yes, I know that these days will pass all too soon (and I do live with this reality as the eldest daughter is already gone) and I will be wishing for the days of missing razors, hair products and shoes, dress meltdowns and messy hair and a bathroom that looks like a cyclone hit a hair salon. But can I look forward to 10 years down the road when the majority of my household is male (Daddy, Daniel, and perhaps a couple more adopted boys, Lord willing) – that I just might be on time for church?
Tell me it is a possibility!
The “low maintenance” men in my life before church