Saturday mornings

It’s a rainy Saturday morning.

The house smells like drip-brewed coffee and hot-from-the-oven biscuits.

Little boy is wearing mismatched pajamas and little girl is nestled snug as a bug in her older brother’s blue bouncer.

The livingroom has been frantically attacked by armies of plastic, oversized Legos, wooden blocks and a needy 60 lb. dog curled up like a hot cinnamon roll on a semi-clear spot of carpet.

The dryer whirrls and clinks as one, lone hooded sweatshirt knocks it’s zipper against the metal in a rhythmic clink, clank, clink, clank.

The hubby cheers for the college basketball game on TV.

The coffee maker beeps with satisfaction at creating a fresh pot of java.

And I stand content amidst it all in “carefree timelessness” – a phrase used by Matthew Kelly in his book, Rhythm of Life (great book!), when referring to the childlike state of simply enjoying the moment without the ruling of a clock. Yes, it’s a good day.


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