My darling eldest girl has a penchant for the dramatic.
And I’ll freely admit my part in it.
My side of the family most definitely has DNA code written for the stage.
My brother. My sisters. My mama.
D to the N to the A.
And as for moi?
Forget about it.
I not only own my drama, I also taught the masses how to be MORE dramatic.
Penchant. Firmly. Planted.
So I hardly balked at the overblown Scarlett O’Hara sighs coming from the living room the other day as I heard her chastise baby sister, “SOPHIE!!!! You got crumbs ALLLLLLLL over the FLOOR!”
Without a beat or interruption of my laundress duties, I bellowed back from above,
“In this house, people are more important than crumbs!!!!”
“Mother, what does that even mean??!?!!???”
“Well, sister, I’m glad you asked…..”
And thus began the crumb project.
A mad gab of input by my three in an attempt to create a little we-love-you-more-than-crumbs manifesto.
The process was in a word, hilarious. The ideas, a bit novel. And the hearts behind it, pure if not Purelled.
Call it our own little way of reminding ourselves this holiday season that no matter the busy, the guest, or even the heartbreak, people are our purpose.
MORE THAN CRUMBS
We love you more than crumbs, we do.
We’ll show you how to love you too.
We’ll kiss your boo boo’s before we clean.
We’ll wipe your tears and stop the mean.
We’ll make crazy cool doors for you to walk through.
We’ll share our cows and goldfish too.
We’ll poop in the potty and not on the floor.
We’ll say, “PBBBLT to crumbs, we love you more!”
We’ll give you a show or two or ten.
We’ll even add drums, just tell us when!
We’ll give you Christmas day after day.
And we won’t give up on you if you run away.
We’ll search for you with all our might.
Just like we did for Sophie last night.
We’ll scour the halls and the in-betweens.
We’ll look high and low and over fairy wings.
We won’t slow-up until we see your face.
And then to you we will gladly race.
We won’t care a hoot from where you came.
We’ll just love on you and shout your name!
We’ll break out the goldfish, the best we’ve got.
Maybe even a cow if you like that a lot.
We’ll dance. We’ll sing. We’ll even shout.
And you can best be guessing we’ll get those drums out!
We’ll wash your hands and feet and face.
We’ll clothe you in Avenger gear or even lace.
We’ll kiss your boo boo’s and say “Don’t cry.”
Pray with you or sing a sweet lullaby.
For it must be said right now, right here.
You are the gift we expected this year.
We missed you like crazy, that much is true.
But more than crumbs, we love you!
Sara Cormany guest posts on the first Friday of each month. Sara is mommy to six-year-old Grace, four-year-old Drew and one-year-old Sophie. When she is not wiping noses, changing diapers or chasing her kids, she is a sometimes writer and a sometimes teacher to teenagers. But her most cherished role is that of one who is perfectly held by Jesus. She loves watching Him take the broken, the messy and the seemingly mundane of her everyday and turn it into something beautiful. She recently began her own blog called Where Feet May Fail. Be sure to check it out.