Happiness

Today I dropped my kids off at Vacation Bible School, I raced my guilt about not volunteering this year to the front doors. I won. Leaving the guilt behind to catch it's breath and latch onto another mother, I drove my smeared windowed Civic to Menards.

I've been wanting to plant more perennials in the back beds, but just haven't had the time lately. As I walked through the nursery with my list, my heart pounded as if I were embarking upon a new romance. I thought to myself, "This is me. I get butterflies imagining what I can plant in the dirt behind my house." I'm not sure if this is an admirable passion for life and the simple parts of it, or low expectations.

Pure joy hits you from behind while your not looking. It stuns me like a kick in the butt, but instead of being angry and shocked, when it is joy, you jump at the sudden impact and laugh. An Annabelle hydrangea plant sat shot gun. Kai's car seat held with lavender plants. The floor filled up with yellow rose bushes. The back end of my car sunk under the weight of several bags of black top soil and mulch.

No one was hungry. I didn't have to worry about putting a blanket down for dirt and water. It's my car. I am allowed to get it as dirty as I want. As I hopped into my car, I could almost hear the plants smile, sighing happily to themselves as well. There is a quietness knowing you will be loved. If I had a bigger car, I would've bought too much, felt sick to my stomach. Neatly folding the receipt and slipping it into that hidden pocket of my wallet I would have returned them the next day.

I will take a picture of this when I get home, I thought as I arched the front wheels out of the parking spot. This is pure happiness for me today. So I did, and there it is.