What Happened to Mrs. Clean?
By Joanne Malley
I have to share some really sad news. My husband has long suffered with the common male malady of cable addiction.
Heís a State Trooper armed with four hundred and twenty channels and a remote thatís fired up with fresh batteries. Since heís had no need to draw his 9mm Heckler and Koch lately, Iím going to go easy on him. The remote seems to satisfy his need to stay connected to his macho cop persona, and helps to keep him in touch with his other male counterparts.
Cable addiction can become very serious, and those of you with husbands certainly know Iím not lying. If you ever see that glazed-over look on his face, please seek medical attention immediately. Heís headed for a coma in no time.
If heís got a comfortable chair like my husbandís, itíll serve as a cozy cradle for his bottom, which will soon become rooted to the cushion. Next, heíll suffer temporary deafness to those around him and may possibly enter into a catatonic state. My sympathies when this occurs.
Iím really no better than he, because Iíve been entangled in a very sticky web of creativity and have not been able to detach from my computer. Itís such a problem that Iíve noticed cobwebs running from my arms to my keyboard, rendering me temporarily attached to my Hewlett-Packard. I think my kids are convinced that Iím an alien, and that their real mom is in a pod being held in a Hewlett-Packard holding cell.
Cobwebs are not my thing, no matter where they collect and fester! I am quickly becoming enlightened to the fact that they have been appearing in places where they have never been before. When they showed up in the refrigerator, I was shocked.
Unfortunately, the time I normally spend obsessing over my housework has taken a back seat to my writing. My home is experiencing some confusion as well, since my compulsiveness has always been apparent throughout the years. My furniture has now acquired allergies due to the excessive dust and is begging to be wiped clean with lemon-scented Pledge.
I often promise to spend a little quiet time with my husband, but manage to crank out the words, "Only fifteen more minutes, honey," which then usually turns into more than two hours.
I now have to wonder who or what else I may have been neglecting. The children? The laundry? My culinary responsibilities? Well, it canít be that bad. The children are alive and well, they have clean underwear and are fed three mealsÖ
Whoa! Did you see that?
Uh, oh. That was the dust cloth AND my bible whizzing past me with an obvious hint! I guess not only has the house suffered, but so too has my quiet study time. Iíve recently realized that Iíve also been neglecting the most important Book ever published, by an Author who loves me more than I love my writing.
Now that autumn is approaching and the children are back in school, itís probably a good time to reorganize my priorities and engage in some hefty-duty cleaning. Iíll be disconnecting the cobwebs from my arms as well as from the corners of my home, in an effort to turn over a new leaf. The webs in the refrigerator will have to wait. Their residence there completely freaks me out. That job, Iíll leave for my husband.
My new priorities will also include more consistent Bible study time that can fit in with my other responsibilities. I now have to wonder how many times I might have told God, "Just fifteen more minutes, and then Iíll spend some time with you."
With my new plan in place, I hope my writing can breathe more truth and be a more direct contribution from His Word. Hopefully, my words will take on deeper meaning and offer more insightful lessons to those who read my work.
I guess Iíve just proven that a lesson can be found almost anywhere and through any circumstance. My dust cloth was trying to get my attention and so was my Bible, but unfortunately, my blinders were interfering with my optical acuity.
Now that I have better vision and Iíve been "hit between the eyes," so to speak, I ought to go and fit in some study time right now. When Iím done with that, Iím quite aware I need to fetch that dust cloth. Whatís that old saying? "The dust will be there tomorrow."
Not only will the dust cloth come out, but so too will that leaf blower once again. Thank goodness Iíve got my husband to take care of that chore! After the house has been dusted and the last leaf is cleared from the yard, perhaps my husband and I can both bask in the free time and immerse ourselves in the comfort of the Word together.
Joanne is a wife and also a mother of two children living in New Jersey. Her love for writing ignites a desire to touch, inspire and sometimes offer a bit of humor to her readers. She has been published in Cross-Times and is also a contributing writer for Sisters In the Lord. You can find more of Joanneís writing at http://www.faithwriters.com/member-profile.php?id=6433
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