As a child, I loved the story of the Elves and the Shoemaker. The thought that benevolent sprites would stitch tiny leather shoes during the night charmed and intrigued me. Considering the household chores that I now face as an adult, I wish even more that such fantasies could come true, at least once in a while.
I know I don’t have it as hard as millions of people in the world, but that thought doesn’t make me any less tired. Sometimes I feel like I just can’t handle it all anymore. I’m so exhausted because everything that happens around here depends on me. I either have to see that it’s done, or I have to do it myself. Today I was fantasizing about how wonderful it would be to come home every day to a clean house, fresh laundry, and hot meals on the table. That sounds like some kind of dream. Forget about trips to the Mediterranean and full body massages – just give me an occasional night off. After getting up at 5:30 every morning, getting Keith off to school, getting to work by 7:30, and then working all day, I’m not in any mood to push a vacuum or turn on an oven when I get home. It’s all I can do to throw a couple of hotdogs in a pan and make a stab at helping Keith with his homework.
Tonight, just before getting into bed, I thought, “Hmm, maybe if I prayed hard and really believed, God would clean my house while I sleep. If he didn’t want me to tell anybody, I wouldn’t. I’d just keep it between us. I’m just so tired. And it would be such a wonderful surprise in the morning. I wonder if I should try it.”
I almost squeezed my eyes shut, just for a second. But then my next thought was: “Snap out of it. He’s not magic.”
Still, it would have been nice.