When I took a new job at the beginning of the year, my commute got a bit longer. (It's still not bad at all, especially when you compare it to places like Chicago or Boston.)
I actually enjoy the commute time. I listen to music, sing, pray and I annoy no one.
This morning, I had Dark-haired daughter with me. She has an appointment later, so I dropped her off at her cousin's house for the day and I'll pick her up later.
She is not quiet. Not contemplative. Not serene.
I told her a couple of times, "I really just need quiet." I woke up in a great deal of pain. I just wanted to focus on the drive and the music. "Please, just be quiet."
She agreed. Until...
"Just one question. How many babies can fit in a uterus?"
"Can you be 50 or 40 and have a baby?"
"When you have the baby, what happens to the water that's around the baby?"
My morning commute went from "me time" to a review of the female anatomy, the birth process, and the aftermath of birth. Having never been pregnant, I tried to be as accurate as possible.
Dark-haired daughter is often like a very young child. She asks question after question after question. She's curious. She likes to know how things and people work. Once she's met you, you are fair game for her curiosity. She is never intentionally rude, but sometimes she needs a gentle (or not so gentle) reminder that there is a personal line you shouldn't cross.
Yes, she drives me crazy. But I find her curiosity refreshing and sweet. She is a great companion for an adventure, because she loves new things and new people.
Yes, she drives me crazy. She is the best co-pilot, anytime, anywhere. I'll take the crazy.
Acknowledging the perfect joy of suffering in Christ, but having a little fun along the way.
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