I spent an hour scrubbing all of the mirrors in the house. We have a lot of them because I don’t like to walk more than 4 steps without smiling at my reflection.
So imagine my disdain as I prepared a shower for myself and noticed what looked like the faint, dirty fingerprints of three guilty children ALL OVER my mirror.
I grumbled something about how pointless it is to clean ANYTHING in this place when those 30 little fingers are following behind me messing everything up again.
When I got out of the shower I stared at their graffiti as the steam settled into place and made the words visible to me. Various versions of “I love Mom” were scribbled in every corner.
I mean…maybe they’re not SO bad.