Cleaning up after the kids are in bed one evening, I find a half-eaten chicken nugget when I sweep under the dining table. I stare at it for a long time, perplexed. The idea of food (meat) surviving on our floor uneaten for so long is ludicrous, or, was. I am grateful in this moment for our good dog, Lunchbox, who, to his final days, was a dutiful, industrious living vacuum cleaner (and, of course, a pal).
I Am Grateful:
- I am grateful that when the heat makes me lethargic on the playground, Mads accepts my suggestion that instead of tag we play "zombie tag" so I can shuffle lazily after him instead of running.
- I am grateful for the way my grandmother lights up even the dimmest (grimmest) of rooms, and I am grateful if I've inherited even a smidgen of her sparkle.
- I am grateful when my grandpa tells me I'm a good driver.
- I am grateful for Queen Anne's Lace and early blackberries growing on the side of the road.
- I am grateful for the way traffic lights reflect on the wet street at night when it rains.
- I am grateful for Curious George: A Halloween Boo Fest and sipping coffee out of a 1986 Casper The Friendly Ghost mug in June.
- I am grateful to Jared for making me coffee before he leaves for work (to a job where he will make other people coffee all day).
- I am grateful for the patience of the waitress at Noodle Blvd as my pre-schooler attempts to eat ramen for the first time.
- I am grateful every time my son runs to me with a booger he's picked on the end of his finger, asking me to wipe it away with a tissue, because it is not a booger he's wiped on something else, flicked away, or eaten.
- I am grateful for the self-satisfied grin on Wolfman's face as he listens to his own music, recorded the previous evening, and he announces with approval and pride, "That's nasty."
- I am grateful for Grandpa bumping the side of my knee with his fist as we wait in a courtroom and telling me, "Tough life. Get over it."
