Josh has a toybox in our great room. The box is the catcher-of-all-things. A Box of Holding, for you D&D fans. Mary Poppin’s carpetbag for others. You get the drift, it seems bottomless. So, this morning, I was on the computer, working on some Scout stuff, and I become aware that he is digging in the toy box, which is behind me. I check over my shoulder, and I can only see him from the waist down. The entire top half of his body is in the toybox, and he’s digging like there’s no tomorrow. I hear him muttering to himself:
“I’ll find it if I keep praying the same damn thing.”
I’m not sure I hear him correctly. I don’t want to believe I heard him correctly, so I asked him to repeat himself. He does, still buried in the toy chest:
“I’ll find it if I keep praying the same damn thing!”
“Joshua!!” I said, a bit indignant. My child was swearing, after all. Out in the open!! “Stand up and face me!” He does. “Did you just say, ‘I’ll find it if I keep praying the same damn thing’?”
He smirks, because he knows that I just said a bad word, and he’s a little proud that I thought HE was brave enough to say it.
“NO, Mom,” he says, exasperated. “I said, I’ll find it if I keep praying to St. Anthony!”
Your turn… what’s your best “oops” moment, or misunderstanding?