Monday, October 5, 2009

Messy to the Power of Three

I haven't quite figured out how they do it. But they're masters of messiness.

Three powder-smelling, snugly children wake up each morning and put on clean outfits, lovingly washed, dried, and folded by yours truly.

But sometimes, the trio doesn't even make it thirty minutes before managing to coat their outfits in dirt, poo, or gummed-to-death Cheerios.

Today's culprits were the puddles from last night's rain. Tomorrow...who knows?

But what I do know is that whatever substance manages to spot and stain each little outfit means more work for me on Mondays.

Spray a little Shout or Awesome here. Rub in some Cheer or Tide there. Heat some boiling hot water on the stove to activate the Oxi Clean for soaking those really stubborn stains. Whatever it takes to scrub away the grime so tomorrow I can clothe my children in the same outfits again to see what stain they can get on them this time!

Today's wash contained one of Emerson's outfits coated in some undetermined substance he wallered in outside. It's soaked in my bathroom sink for a week, but the stain still isn't budging.

My standing over the washer and scrubbing on stains as I grumble about messy children really bothers my husband. His logic? If one scrubbing session doesn't get out the stain, throw the outfit in the trash and buy another one. It bothers him even more when he knows I'm scrubbing on a shirt the kids only wear at home on the farm...or a shirt he knows I bought for 59 cents at the thrift store.

But there's something in me that just doesn't want to give up and admit defeat. Something in me that wants to keep trying to save that outfit.

Maybe that's because I know what it's like to be stained, myself. And I'm glad my heavenly Father didn't give up on me.

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