This afternoon a child came over to play with my daughter. She’s never been to my house before today.
After about ten minutes, she and my daughter had explored and conquered the entire space that we call home, all twelve hundred and fifty-odd square feet.
“This place is awesome!” She exclaimed.
I looked around and saw hundred year old floors with peeling paint and dirt so deep in the grooves no amount of scrubbing could get them clean. I saw a room with OSB on the walls. I saw the area rug in my living room. It was, shall we say, textured due to a vacuum cleaner malfunction. Basically, I saw the hot mess we call home.
This little girl saw the awesome.
We have a bunny named Charlotte who poops on our lap.
We have a super-old Ninetendo.
“The kind you can’t find anywhere!” She said.
We have deer antlers.
And the ultimate, we have a bright yellow bird-cage without a bird.
We also have warm cookies and cold milk.
We have laughter and love.
I mean, this place is really awesome.
That’s what I love about kids. They still see the awesome.
Perspective changes everything.