Life and Death Matters

Multi-tasking while driving Maggie and Kate to school, I  prayed quietly as they designed imaginary houses from their backseat studio.   Double-duty ceased when I overheard,  “glass doors like Momo’s.”  Lest I come off as an exhibitionist, Kate alluded to sliding glass doors on our tub/shower.

The almost half hour drive to school flew as I listened in on their flights of fancy.

Kate: “I’m going to have 2000 pets.”

( They’ve just gotten a new puppy.  Obviously, no big deal.  What’s 1999 more?)

Maggie: “I just want two.”

(She’s nine and very responsible.)

Kate: “I’m going to model for work.”

( This, the child, whose bedroom qualifies for disaster relief funding, obviously does not mean she wishes to be a model for work.)

Each wanted an exercise room with weights of various sizes.   Since a room for exercising never figured into any of my childhood castles, I must’ve taken Daddy literally when he preached,  “Lay aside every weight…”(Hebrews 12:1 KJV)

Both wanted houses with a hot tub and pool.  When our kids were growing up, we and our neighbors had pools, problem was the word cess came with the pool.

Ideas ping-ponged back and forth from Kate’s bedroom decorated with rainbows to Maggie’s reading room, filled with shelves of books.

Kate piped up, “I don’t need one of those.  I’m not a reader.”

Yet.

Caught no mention of kitchens or laundry rooms.

But then, we’re talking imaginary, not real houses.

Besides, I was just so relieved they weren’t practicing songs to sing at my funeral.

Which reminds me of a billboard ad for a funeral home, “You’ve always said you wouldn’t be caught dead in that dress.  You’d better tell them now.”

So much to do, so little time.

Like my Mama told me, “While you’re dying, iron.”

 

 

 

 

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