The forbidden fruit
I can't blame Eve, really. I probably would have done the same thing. There is something so alluring about that which you are expressly forbidden. I don't know why this. Something about human nature I suppose.
To illustrate with an example from my own life, I will share about pregnancy. There are a few things that are "forbidden" while you are pregnant, some of which are too much seafood and alcohol. Normally I am not a huge seafood eater. I don't cook it much, we don't have that much around here in Spokane that is fresh and affordable. Anyhow, suffice it to say, that about the only time you will see me trying to resist (usually unsucessfully) an urge for a McDonalds Fishwhich and Coke is when I am pregnant. Also, for a person who could count the number of times she drank beer or wine on my fingers, when I became pregnant I all of a sudden longed for this world of alcohol, to which I was not allowed.
What reminded me of this this morning is Judah at the dishwasher. One of the best ways for me to get the kitchen cleaned without him whining at me to hold him, is to let him play at the dishwasher. He invariably will find every knife first. If I should miss taking one out - he finds it. He prefers them in order of likelyhood of serious injury, the steak knifes first, and if those are gone, the butter knifes. It is uncanny how he can find even the hidden ones.
It is hard for me to comprehend that somewhere there are people being payed thousands of R&D dollars to develop sophisticated toys for our children, which are then sold to us at high prices. In spite of this, the children will abandon these fancy gidgets after mere moments of play. While, a bacteria ridden flyswatter, for example, will provide hours of unadulteraded entertainment. And if you want to provide your children a real good time, just loose them on the bathroom treo of germs and nastiness. If they were left to have there way with the toilet, the plunger and the toilet paper - you probably wouldn't see them for a good portion of a month.
Oh, kids, those little humans. You gotta love em'.
Oh, one more note of entertainment. I, like most mothers, am called upon immidately to kiss any injured area and realease the magic healing balm of motherhood upon weeping children. Yesterday, I had to draw the line. Joe had shoved almost the entirety of his hotdog and bun into his mouth. In an effort to masticate this excess of food, his teeth landed a bit on his tounge. He immediately started sobbing and then opened his mouth, full of disgusting, half chewed food, pointing and presenting it for a kiss. This, as you can imagine, was the first time I refused to release the healing of a mothers kiss upon the wound.
To illustrate with an example from my own life, I will share about pregnancy. There are a few things that are "forbidden" while you are pregnant, some of which are too much seafood and alcohol. Normally I am not a huge seafood eater. I don't cook it much, we don't have that much around here in Spokane that is fresh and affordable. Anyhow, suffice it to say, that about the only time you will see me trying to resist (usually unsucessfully) an urge for a McDonalds Fishwhich and Coke is when I am pregnant. Also, for a person who could count the number of times she drank beer or wine on my fingers, when I became pregnant I all of a sudden longed for this world of alcohol, to which I was not allowed.
What reminded me of this this morning is Judah at the dishwasher. One of the best ways for me to get the kitchen cleaned without him whining at me to hold him, is to let him play at the dishwasher. He invariably will find every knife first. If I should miss taking one out - he finds it. He prefers them in order of likelyhood of serious injury, the steak knifes first, and if those are gone, the butter knifes. It is uncanny how he can find even the hidden ones.
It is hard for me to comprehend that somewhere there are people being payed thousands of R&D dollars to develop sophisticated toys for our children, which are then sold to us at high prices. In spite of this, the children will abandon these fancy gidgets after mere moments of play. While, a bacteria ridden flyswatter, for example, will provide hours of unadulteraded entertainment. And if you want to provide your children a real good time, just loose them on the bathroom treo of germs and nastiness. If they were left to have there way with the toilet, the plunger and the toilet paper - you probably wouldn't see them for a good portion of a month.
Oh, kids, those little humans. You gotta love em'.
Oh, one more note of entertainment. I, like most mothers, am called upon immidately to kiss any injured area and realease the magic healing balm of motherhood upon weeping children. Yesterday, I had to draw the line. Joe had shoved almost the entirety of his hotdog and bun into his mouth. In an effort to masticate this excess of food, his teeth landed a bit on his tounge. He immediately started sobbing and then opened his mouth, full of disgusting, half chewed food, pointing and presenting it for a kiss. This, as you can imagine, was the first time I refused to release the healing of a mothers kiss upon the wound.
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