Two square feet

Today, I cleaned off two square feet of counter space.

I’m sitting in the dark, the remains of the fire crackling.  The children are in bed.  The evidence of our day is strewn in chaotic strands around the house.  The evidence is everywhere.  Dirty clothes.  Dirty socks.  Boots.  Oh, the boots.  Dishes.  Thread and scraps of fabric.  Scraps of paper.  Markers with mismatched lids.  Tonight, in a literal spare minute, I hurriedly cleaned two square feet of counter space.  I wiped the crumbs and straightened the cookbooks.  If you walked in right now, you might be tempted to think that I am disgracefully incapable of cleanliness, and that the two square feet is a mockery to housewifedom.


Today, I also loved.  I loved these girls of mine and I gave them all of my heart and I shut off my phone and I sat near them.  I helped them.  I played with them.  I taught them.  And I only had time for two square feet of anything else.

Tonight, I’m okay with that.  Today, I just loved them.

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