Like I said, he's glorious. There are times I feel like he's the only thing keeping me sane and helping me get through the day.
No matter how much I've tried, it seems I cannot control the earth's rotation. Time continues to march on. I can't fast forward, rewind, or even pause it, much to my chagrin. Some days the mere thought of this is enough to make my heart flutter.
Even more terrifying than the speed at which I am flying around our solar system, are the three tiny tornadoes who live in my house. I cannot control them. I make plans. I make schedules, and lists. I tell them my expectations. It's no use.
There are too many things that can go wrong.
I get set back 30 minutes because somebody wet the bed, and there he is. Laszlo. He's been flushed down the toilet. He's been knocked from his perch on the mantel. He's shattered on the floor.
I'm left trying to pick up the pieces. I'm desperately trying to glue him back together. To get some sort of rhythm to my day.
The funny thing is, the more I try to maintain my grip on him, the more I try to force the pieces to fit back together, the more devoted I am to him, the more I insist that everyone else in the house (let's face it...just plain everyone) bow down to him...
The more my face begins to look like his.
It's not pretty.
You may want to steer clear.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I know it's time to be devoted to something more beautiful. It's time to fix my gaze on the Beautiful One, and hope that I begin to resemble Him instead.
Wish me luck. I've tried to get rid of him before, but the stinker keeps finding his way back.