Many of you know of, but have not had the pleasure of meeting Miss Paisley. She is spirited, cautious, crazy, clumsy, loving, timid, and aggressive. I have no idea how each of these are possible in one small kitten, but they are in Paisley. And many times, I think she is an exact replica of me. Case and point:
The other day Paisley was exercising her wildly fun and adventurous spirit. She then ran straight into the shower door. Of course it was closed and she sat non-chalantly washing her face as if she meant to do that all along….
And today I, Paisley’s mother, did the following:
- Finishing my coif, I spritz some finishing spray from an old aerosol bottle, most of which landed in blobs on my white, hand-wash-only blouse. Problems.
- Ate homemade chips from the kitchen which scored a grease stain just right of center around 10am. <<Chips at 10am. I know, I know.>>
- In a flurry of frustration at work, I bent over to pick up what was probably the most inconsequential item off the floor and kneed my own eye halfway to Mars leaving a very visible eye print on my aqua jeans similar to a kiss mark on a very hot man’s stubbled cheek.
- Hand-squeezed limeade slid guns blazing down my chin, dead center on my (hand wash only) white shirt. It was a Babe Ruth-styled home run.
So today I had one of those days that makes you just want to yell “FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD” at the top of your lungs, in the middle of the office when you stick a post-it note off-centered on your computer monitor because it was just imperfect enough to seem like a natural disaster.
Oh, and then I came home and watched the DNC. I have no idea why I did that. But my blood pressure is now through the roof.
Somehow, all of that reminded me how unfair it felt that Madden left us so suddenly. Yet, I remember just as quickly how, as much as Madden was the purest reminder of quiet love, Paisley is, well, me. She is joy and she is….gracefully ungraceful. So…. me. We are blessed to have Paisley Pants (more officially, Paisley Grace) around this place because she is just that – a touch of (ungraceful) grace when we least expected it.
Thank you, Lord, for knowing what we need when we haven’t the slightest clue. Thanks for reminding me that you’re the one in control.
Bruised, broken and out of control….. Kiki