broken

“B’oken. ‘Actor. B’oken.”

It’s not even this almost-two-year-old’s real birthday yet, and one of the presents from his party is broken.

All it takes is a quick look and I reassure him, “Daddy can fix it, buddy. We’ll put it right here on the counter to wait until he gets home, and then he can fix it.”

“B’oken. ‘Actor.” He tells Daddy about it the minute he walks in the door. And of course, Daddy is quick to fix it. And the little man is happy again.

Later, when Daddy asks if he was good for Mommy today, his son mentions the “’ump t’uk” incident.

“Was there a problem with his dump truck today, Mommy?”

Yes, he was once again quick to tell Daddy about his troubles, including breaking the rules and taking his dump truck outside, getting sand in all the places that are supposed to make fun noises.

Before my day is an hour old, it’s broken. If only I would remember to take it to my Father and ask Him to fix it. He’s always available—I don’t even have to wait for Him to get home! 

I’m short with the children, and needlessly stressed. But how often I fail to quickly confess it to my Lord.

No wonder He tells us to become like little children.

{Five-Minute Friday prompt: “broken”}

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5 Comments

  1. Hi Gretchen,

    Your writing is so inviting. It sort of pulls me in without even realizing it, and suddenly I’m in your little pink house and looking at the broken tractor.

    So glad to have found your little space.

  2. Pingback: FMF “After”