The Best Days of Our Life

Yesterday, Charissa, Brandt and I went to visit Daddy at work.  Doug has been working on a custom TV stand for a super-nice gentleman who wanted to meet Brandt.  I pulled my greasy hair into a ponytail, stuck it under a baseball cap, sighed at the toys thrown all over the living room, racked my brain for an idea on dinner that did not involve leftover turkey, changed a diaper, found the small sneakers hidden under the toddler bed, put a stocking cap over Charissa's post-nap curls, buckled the kiddos in their car seats, and then actually started driving there. 

We walked into the immaculate house.  I admired the absolute latest flatscreen TV - about 6x the size of ours and 1/4 as thin.  I praised Doug's custom work already housing a BluRay & wireless system.  I toured the sun room Doug built last year with its exposed beams, home theater, and furniture from Pottery Barn.  Charissa begged to go outside to jump on the trampoline in the perfectly manicured lawn with the gazebo, the custom lighting, the landscaping.

As I stood there telling the owner goodbye while balancing Brandt on my hip and trying to keep Charissa from letting the dogs lick her face, he smiled wistfully, 

"These are the best days of your life, you know," he said.

As I looked at his empty house except for him and the dogs I smiled, 

"Yes, I know."

And as I drove back singing "Hush Little Baby" to Charissa, as I tripped over our cat on the way into the house, as I kicked the blocks to make a pathway, as I warmed up leftover turkey for dinner, and then as we sat as a family and prayed over our dinner...

I really did know.

I am blessed beyond measure.

(Charissa took this picture)