Swing Parts

This morning I gave piano lessons to three boys who live not too far from me.  Their Dad dropped them off at my house on his way to work.  I had four boys and one active baby girl zooming around my house while I went over the C-scale and defined ritardando (as hard as I tried, I didn't keep a straight face when I said the word out loud) to whichever luckless boy's turn it was to be in my grasp.  But you know what, when their Mom came to pick them up, all three boys had done well on their lesson, my house was still clean, and all the children were happy.  I felt like I was way totally awesome.

This afternoon my neighbor from across the street and her husband came over to pick up a baby swing they'd loaned us for the year.  When they knocked I was sizzling dinner in a kitchen full of chopped vegetable carnage, random toys, and dirty dishes while Captain Kindergarten and the Little Linebacker were having a knock-down drag-'em-out wrestling match in the living room.  Baby Girl was in her high chair smearing tomatoes all over the front of her shirt since I hadn't managed to get a bib on her.  My neighbor's little boy ran through the kitchen to go to our backyard to play so I followed his Mom that way while his Dad laughed at the full-body tackles Captain Kindergarten was ruthlessly doling out to his brother.  A second later the Little Linebacker came to me crying loudly and moaning, "It was Captain Kindergarten.  It was Captain Kindergarten, " a refrain I hear all too often.

So I went into the living room and went over with Captain Kindergarten how we know when someone isn't having fun wrestling anymore (hint #1 - loud crying) and what we should do we when we pick up on the subtle cue (STOP!  For the love of all that's holy, STOP!).  Then I showed the Mom and Dad the swing and gave them the parts that went with it.  Except I was missing a part that I didn't know that I was missing.  And I was like, "Oh...ummm...ah...it's probably in a closet or something around here."  And they politely said they had a couple of days before they needed to pass it on.    And I felt way totally un-awesome and kind of like one of those crazy wrecks.

I think it is the contrasts in life that keeps it kind of exciting.

Pray for my closets that they shed forth missing swing parts in the next 48 hours.  Thank you.