We Make Messes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We make messes around here. Lots of them.

Our messes often start in the kitchen where flour flies or gets mixed into clumps with water that spatters and sticks. Many of our messes turn into the meals that we enjoy together. Many turn into sticky hands, wet floors, or seeds stirred, sprinkled and spilled.

Some messes start small, a few crumbs on the table, a drop of soup on the tiled floor. The smudges on chairs, counters, and faucets slowly grow as they are touched by little hands covered with exuberant eating.

I love freshly vacuumed floors, counters wiped clean, blankets folded for later use or spread evenly across the bed. I feel calm and refreshed when our home is clean. Without a mess, the clean wouldn’t feel so clean.

Messes are alive and we make them when we are creating, sharing, enjoying, playing. It’s not a mess it is part of the process, a way of learning, so much of life itself.

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