Playdough In My Pocket

At the end of the day at preschool I headed upstairs to pick up Grant from his class. On the way I pass one teacher that tells me I'll never believe what hes done. She tells me I should really give his teacher a hard time for not keeping a closer eye on him. Shes laughing pretty hard so Im trying my best not to panic but you can't even imagine the scenes of what might have been that were flashing through my mind! When I get to his class his teachers are laughing and apologizing at the same time while collecting playdough from the tables. Grant turned to face me and I begin to quickly scan over him from the face down. Did he draw on his skin or clothes? Miss his mouth at lunch? Wait too late to head to the potty? A new haircut? So many things still rushing through my mind. What has he done? Then I see it. The pocket of his light blue tshirt is a bit stretched out and there are traces of bright orange playdoughh at the top of it. The teachers continue to tell me that they only turned their backs for a second and he had the biggest ball of playdough you could imagine stuffed entirely into that little pocket. They had done their best to remove the bulk of it but of course there are some smudges and crumbles remaining. I turn his pocket wrong side out to remove a few more crumbs. Some things are just too funny to get angry about. I hugged him and reminded him that we play with playdough on the table.

How do boys manage to be so frustrating and so funny all at the same time? Why would he do something so obviously ridiculous? Simple, because in his four year old mind, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Im well beyond age four but when I think about it I know Ive also done some ridicoulous things that seemed like a good idea at the time. Im thankful that my Heavenly Father loves me and forgives me even when I make decisions that make about as much sense as walking around with playdough stuffed in my pocket. I'm also reminded that even something that seems harmless at the time can leave smudges and crumbles behind in our lives just like that playdough did in Grant's pocket. I pray that I'll remember this as I make decisions for our future and also that I'll model it well to my boys. After all this is the perfect time for them to learn to make good decisions, when the stakes are only as high as a stained tshirt!