Sickening Obsession

Our 2-year-old has an obsession and it happens to be one that makes me feel like a cocaine-snorting, child-abusing, dog-kicking, welfare mom.

She is obsessed with a very lovely lady at church who is sickeningly cheerful at all times, has flawless skin, spends her life serving wherever she is needed, and made 39 tea rings in one day to give out as Christmas presents. Our 2-year-old prays for Miss A at every meal. Grandma and Grandpa are prayed for at every meal for one specific request. She prays for her uncle who desperately needs a new job, at every meal. She prays for Mommy’s new baby at every meal. She prays for Miss A at every meal………3 times. Per meal. And she often stops mid-bite at every meal to tell me that she loves Miss A. And myriad times throughout the day. Usually when I’ve accidentally dropped a glob of icky on my dress while changing the 1-year-old who is wearing an outfit that is stained because I didn’t catch it in time to treat it. And his nose is running. Into his mouth. And this is when 2-Year-Old drags up Miss A, and how much love for her is had by said toddler. Which makes me remember that I haven’t had a shower since I can’t remember when, and I’m wearing the same dress I’ve had on for 2 days, and supper has not been started and it will probably end up being pancakes because I’m tired, and stretch marks have officially appeared, and I don’t know how to make a pie crust from scratch, AND I forgot to brush my teeth this morning.

But I must admit that I love Miss A too. She knows how to make serious contraction pain subside substantially, so you can understand my feelings about her. She is a testimony to others around her, and has such a sweet and gentle spirit. It’s sickening. So while I’m thankful that my 2-year-old has chosen to spend much time thinking about, praying for, and mentioning, ad nauseum, such a worthy individual, it makes me feel like…..well, just re-read the first sentence of this post and you’ll understand.

I mean, I just can’t compete with that kind of perfection. I’m gonna have to come up with something impressive that Miss A is unable to do. Like being really good at lay-ups, or shooting more skeet out of the sky than any man I am related to except my uncle, or burning supper in a major way. Hey! That’s it! I KNOW Miss A can’t do THAT, and I TOTALLY rock at it!