frosting

Girls.  So precious.  Sugar and spice and everything nice.  Sensitive, sweet, giving.

Now the boys.  Fun-loving, demanding, overly-active, competitive.  Oh...they're tender about loving their Momma.  I'll give them that.  But I'd only occasionally describe them as sweet, in the same way the girls are sweet.

Now about that last piece of chocolate cake.

Momma applied lipstick in the bathroom.  Daddy worked on the living-room computer.

Mary climbed onto the kitchen cupboard, highly motivated by the tupperware housing a lone piece of chocolate cake.

It's a tough lid, but she conquered it.

From the bathroom, Momma hears Daddy groaning in his worst, these-kids-are-driving-me-crazy kind of way.  Momma scurries out of the bathroom, almost running into Baby Beth and Daddy.

Beth's face is covered--and I do mean covered--in chocolate frosting.  Flustered, Daddy rushes her into the bathroom.

In a most helpful kind of way, Momma bursts out laughing.

 "Was it tasty, Beth?",  Momma asks with a grin.

Beth smiles her answer, undaunted by Daddy's child-rearing angst.

Not easily amused by baby and preschooler antics,  Daddy says,  "Mary decided to get into the chocolate cake and share it with her sister!  It's on the carpet....on the floor...all over their clothes!"

Yes, it was a mess.  And Mary didn't ask permission

But mostly, Momma was struck by the sweetness of the scene, in her mind's eye.  Two little sisters on the floor of the kitchen, sharing a piece of chocolaty goodness.  Not meaning any harm.

Momma tells Mary how nice it was of her to share the last piece of cake with her sister.

"Yeah.  I love her so much, Mommy."

The boys were at the table doing school, and they too, were amused.

Momma teases them.  "I don't think you boys would have shared a lone piece of cake with each other.  Am I right?"

Peter said  "You're right!"

Paul laughed his agreement.

Daddy came around.  Kissed Momma and smiled, the laughter luring him in.

Tomorrow's memories.

Today's blessing.