I have a lot of really good stories.
The thing is that my decision making abilities don't seem to be impaired when I'm in the moment. I guess that's why it's called hindsight.
So here's how it happened.
We brought home some kind of stomach flu this week. No biggy. Done this before. And by day four the majority of the house had dealt with it in phases one, two, and three. And other than Harriet (my washing machine) desperately needing a twin sister, I think we came out fairly well.
Friday rolls around and I have to cancel everything because of the bug. Most of the children are subdued and content with Netflix and a Popcicle and my poor Steve is miserably sick in the bedroom. He likes to be left alone when he's ill so I get a brilliant idea. If I take the noisiest children with me, I can go to town and run a few errands! Steve gets a nap somewhere really close to the toilet, the Little People get a movie, and I get something accomplished.
It's kind of like If You Give A Moose a Muffin. If I'm going to town I might as well get some lumber for the project in the garage. And if I'm going to the lumber store I might as well buy some paint for the front porch. And if I'm going to buy the paint I might as well get some primer to go with it.
The primer came in two varieties, really good, and this-will-cover-everything-under-the-sun-and-never-come-off-no-matter-what. I chose the second kind. Just to be safe. You probably see where this is going.
I pulled in to the driveway. The Little People have been conditioned, just like Pavlov's dog, that when the van pulls in they should not walk, but run to help unload the food that must certainly be inside. They know that if they get there first they might be able to dibs something edible that otherwise might evaporate before ever having entered the kitchen.
My little Sir Sean became caught up in the excitement of emptying Moby Dick (I'll have to explain the van's name another time) and grabs the primer before anyone can stop him.
He made it to the middle of the driveway before he stumbled and the never-come-off-no-matter-what is dumped upside down and all over.
My first instinct was to try to salvage as much expensive primer as possible. Things went downhill from there. I grabbed a brush and a plate and frantically tried to get up some primer and then quickly brushed it on un-prepped porch pillars and then ran back for more. Then the wind really started to blow. It took longer than it should have for me to realize that I was making a bad situation much worse. And that all that primer was permanently drying onto the concrete.
And that my little boy was watching out the window and wishing with all his might that he hadn't made a mistake.
Time to improve some judgement skills.
I called to Sir Jake to move the vehicles. (Any type of driving is still exciting to a 14 year old.) Dish scrubbers, car washers, and even The Man's wire BBQ cleaning brush went to task.
Sir Sean was right by my side and worked harder than anyone else.
The rain came down and one by one everyone else called it good. But Sir Sean stayed and did his best to make things right. As the last of the paint faded we had a little talk together. I got to tell him how proud I was of him. I had the opportunity to teach him that mistakes are just jumping off spots for learning. That when he makes mistakes in his life, after he does everything he can to make them right, there is Someone Greater who will make up the difference.
We probably won't be cleaning the BBQ any time soon.
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