Parenting is Messy

Ever dispense hairspray toward your bouffant, only to have it squirt in your eye because some of the spray had caked onto the nozzle? That's what it's like having small children.

The other day, the kids found a puddle of mud in the backyard. Every kid should get to play in the mud; it's a blast. But the next thing I knew, I had mud on the fridge, sink, my pant leg and in my eye. My four-year-old, Belle, thought it was great. "It's like chocolate milk!"

My son, Johnny, jumped into his inflatable kiddie pool and did a face plant through the foot of muddy water and down to the bottom of the pool. He stood up with an entire side of his face suddenly purple. I thought, "OH MY GOD!" and braced for an ambulance ride.

Meanwhile, my wife laughed hysterically because she knew our daughter, Belle, had thrown a big piece of purple chalk into the pool earlier in the day, only to have it mostly dissolve before Johnny's face plant. Johnny wiped his face and I could see his hand print in the purple chalk on his face. I turned to my wife. "Very funny."

She slapped her thigh in hysterics.

Another example of my Hairspray Theory is when little kids "help." Last weekend, Belle was stirring dinner. "Daddy, I'd like you to check the recipe so I know ex-act-ly when to stop stirring."

"Just keep going," I said.

"Dad! It's important to stick to the recipe!"

"Belle, it's just rice."

"Oh."

We had southwestern chili with rice and it was delicious. Belle did a great job. And, before we ate, we prayed in thanksgiving for the food and offered prayers for kids who didn't have food to eat.

Belle said, "Or worse--kids who have no toys."