Prompt: Write About a Blue Colored Object

Yesterday Vicbowin had a friend over to play. Consequently it was necessary to use the car (instead of the truck) to take the friend home--more seats. I don't use the car very often anymore. It gets better gas mileage than the truck so Ralexwin typically uses it when he has to commute. This means the kids are rarely in the car either. Factor into this the bit of car-junk rearrangement and what you come out with is a 7 year old child sitting in the back seat and exclaiming, "I've been looking for this everywhere!"


"Looking for what, dear?"

"My water bottle that Dad gave me."

I risked a glance behind me and saw a small blue water cooler--and the smiling face of Albowin.

When we got back to the house he happily brought the container inside with him, where it was placed reverently onto the counter... and promptly forgotten about.

Fast forward an hour or two and you would find me and Ralexwin in the living room. Ralexwin is reading scripture's and I am feeding a sick, stuffy nosed--nearly asleep--Remewin. It's one of those content moments where everything is just right in the world (minus the sick kid). Then Vicbowin pops her head out of her room before walking across the living room and into the kitchen.

"Ugh!" she howls, as if I've mortally offended her sensitivity. She starts tossing dirty dishes around and muttering under her breath.

Crash!

Bang!

Jangle!

Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Ralexwin ignores her and keeps reading, but Remewin starts waking up again. I get annoyed.

"Can I help you with something?"

She reaches over for the blue water cooler and shakes it in my direction. "I'm trying to get a drink of water."

She points to the sink, "But I can't 'cause of all these dishes." --I have no idea where she gets this attitude... definitely not from me--

I get even more annoyed, "You can wait until we're done reading."

"But I'm thirsty!" She cries in that Sahara trekking tone.

"You can wait." I snap.

"MOOOOOOOM!" She throws the cooler onto the counter and storms into her room, muttering.

The mood is shattered. Vicbowin makes mood shattering an art-form

Fast forward again to this morning. The water cooler is sitting prominently on the counter in front of me reminding me of the fickleness of my children. Yesterday that stupid thing was the most important object in the world, today I'd bet money I could toss it in the garbage and no one would notice--well, none of the kids would notice. Still, there it sits glaring at me, daring me to try... as if it's the one in control of that small patch of counter space.

When did I lose control of my house to the whims of my children's junk?