Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Wallpaper and Daddies

Painting our bedroom frustrated my husband. He started early in the morning, promising to be done before bedtime. He didn’t count on removing the wallpaper border taking 6 HOURS! He was fussing and fuming at it, and Cami got so upset. She was agitated, and of course, I was trying to protect her and comfort her by shooing her out of the room to safety. She started yelling, “But I just NEED to come in here and SAY something. I need to SAY something!”

I said, “Okay, Cami. Say what you need to say.”

She said, with tears streaming down her sweet face, “Whoever put up that wallpaper stuff put it up STUPID! They just did it STUPID!” And she burst into full tears, started sobbing, and headed for her room.

I followed her, and found her on her bed. “Honey, are you upset because Daddy’s mad?”

“But you know he isn’t mad at you.”
“Uh huh.”

“He’s mad at the paper.”
“I know.”

“Honey, it’s all right. He’ll figure it out.”
“But I just want to make him feel better.”

Oh, my sweet child, displaying her spiritual gift of mercy and her inherited tendency towards being a rescuer. “Stupid” is the only cuss word she knows. (Thank You, Jesus, for that grace in our house.) It was the ugliest word in her vocabulary that she could think of. And she used it trying to commiserate with her daddy.

We got the wallpaper off eventually. I went back and scored it mercilessly. Michael used the removal solution four times, scraping away what was loosened in between each coat. The room looked great when it was finished.

But by far, the sweetest treasure out of that painting day was seeing the depth of my daughter’s heart for her daddy. She sat outside the door, perched on the nightstand like a cat, and chatted away with him while he painted. It reminded me of how my dad and I call each other pretty much every day—just to chat. Because we’re really great friends.

Oh, how blessed I am.

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