Tuesday, November 13, 2012

I Should Call My Mother More Often

These ducks o' mine have gotten too big for their britches.  I hardly exist anymore.  And when there's a leak in the hose with water spraying in the air, I'm dead to them.  I'll show you what I mean....


Good morning, baby ducks!


It's momma.


The one who has nuzzled you since you were tiny peepers.


The one who gladly feeds you.


The one who fills your pool with fresh water every day deep enough to fully immerse your bills.


The one whose arms embrace you and checks the bottom of your feet.


The one who strokes your neck and speaks to you of your grace and beauty.


The one who tells you about the forgiveness that comes from Jesus' death on the cross when you dig great, big, huge holes in my lawn when water free flows anywhere.


H-e-l-l-o?


Jesse, go see what the big deal is.


Ya, I don't get it either.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I love comments! I put them under my pillow.