Booby traps
"Egad! Our house has been ransacked!!"
This is what I want to exclaim, just about every time I walk in the door to our house. As a kid, I watched the movie, Home Alone, more times than I would like to admit. Boys especially seemed to love the painful booby traps that Kevin had cleverly devised for the robbers, Harry and Marv. They are classic slapstick moves, that I'm sure my sons will love to watch one day soon. If I can only find an old VHS tape player... Mother-in-law to the rescue!! :)
Similar booby traps have been set in my very own home, though rather unintentionally. As you may have gathered, we now live on an Army post. Marine Corps friends around the world are now throwing up in their mouths- I have been trained to say "post" now, not "base," NOOOOO!!!!! ;) Anyway, while living on a military ... property, I often let my guard down a little more than I probably should. Thankfully, my confidence is reestablished, when I think about the pitfalls that surely would come to someone attempting to purposefully ransack my home.
Here's what I imagine:
Our family has left town for the weekend. Only the ol' Jeep Wagoneer is in the driveway. The disguised villain in black, quietly creeps along the side of the house. A hole, just the size of an adult man's foot, is camouflaged with grass (that maintenance has not seemed to fill, despite my polite request). As you can only imagine, the dastardly creeper sprains his ankle.
While hobbling to the front door, cursing under his breath, he suddenly slips on small pool of motor oil in the driveway, leaked from the aforementioned vehicle. He then lands on his back, onto the scooter that was hidden, under the cover of darkness, on the sidewalk. In disbelief, he rolls onto his stomach, and he feels an object being rammed up his nose. The man reaches over to dislodge the Nerf bullet that has been painfully and unexpectedly shoved up his nose, for they are scattered around the grass. Nerf bullets, not noses, that is.
When he goes to stand up, his hand is planted into homemade play dough, that has been oddly smushed into the grass. After picking himself up once more, he swats away flies, swarming as he approaches the door, for they have been feasting on the leftover ice-cream puddles from a few days earlier, that a little curly hair child dropped onto the patio furniture. He sees smudges on the glass door, making it difficult to scope out the loot.
Taking a step into the house, he trips over the wooden train set, that a small child has left out, in the worst possible spot ever, which has miraculously become an ingenious place to foil a robber's evil plans. And yet, he is not stopped. He proceeds through the hallway, while stepping on corn chips, that have been scattered about on the wooden floors.
The kitchen seems to be the perfect room to hide, for he has heard an odd noise. Without looking, he leaps backwards, onto uncooked rice and beans, leftover from a play session that didn't quite get 100% cleaned up, after several attempts with the broom. Once again, he falls flat on his back, for the rice and beans concoction is slipperier than one would imagine. The dishes are overflowing in the sink, but he seems not to care. He leans over to peer around the corner, while bracing himself with his hand, onto a hot griddle. The screams are stifled once more. With eery shadows about him, he creeps on all fours, and his knees suddenly feel sharp pains as they bear down on crayons, artfully covering the floor.
He presses on, determined to get to the bounty. He is thankful for the air mattress that is conveniently waiting for him, in the den. "A movie night," he speculates, for a few traces of popcorn kernels remain. While laying on crushed goldfish, he appreciates the short snooze before pressing on to the treasures that await him.
He scopes out the flat screen TV, but realizes that there are too many smudges and scratches for a reasonable resale value. He decides it's not worth the effort. Approaching the stairs, he steps on numerous miniature air craft figurines, with unforgivable strength, penetrating into his feet. Up the stairs he goes, and decides to return to his childhood, reading a children's library book on the small carpeted platform area of the stairs. He ignores his reservations, which arose after observing that the carpets appear to have not been vacuumed in a few weeks. He picks up the book, Flat Stanley at Bat. Just the motivation he needs. A single rubber rain boot, he sees on the stairs, and this time he's not fooled. He avoids it, only to find a tiny toothbrush underfoot. His feet are throbbing by this point in his journey.
At the top of the stairs, he decides to go left, taking a few steps into the vacant boys' room. He-Man figures are strewn about, making this, once more, an obstacle. He hears a noise. A squeak, and then a dash across the carpet. "A rat," he shrieks, only to find an innocent Teddy Bear Hamster, named Harry. After chasing the fur ball, he reaches out to pick up the adorable hamster, only to be bitten on his finger. He faints at the sight of his own blood.
When he comes to, he sees the image of a man in the corner of the room. And the bad man freezes in fear. Upon closer look, the face looks a lot like Ronald Reagan. He runs out of the room in fright, not knowing that a Reagan mask was simply on a star shaped wall hook near the kids' costumes.
The babies room is next, with the noxious smell of dirty diapers wafting from under the door. He decides to skip this room. Wise choice.
Next the villain must squeeze around a very tall box that is blocking much of the hallway. "Moving day?," he ponders. He sees a room that must be the guest room. Piles of sheets and blankets haphazardly cover the floor. Nothing of value here.
With one last attempt at a financial gain, he tries to go through the jewels in the master bedroom. He cannot, however, find the items of value, amidst all of the costume jewelry, feathers, and bows. Discouraged, he decides to flee.
Rushing back down the stairs, he runs out through the garage, catapulting himself into the air after running into a small tricycle that was at the foot of the door. He conveniently lands on a giant inflatable ball, much like a human hamster ball. He thanks God, though he had no belief in Him prior to this safe landing.
In total shock, he tries to run out the side door, only to be blocked once again by a Rubbermaid tote. With an ultimate escape within his grasp, he passes the green trash bin, and he finally smells fresh air. He gazes upon the moon and stars. Freedom!!!
The robber then realizes, what he should have realized all along: that this house had already been looted! Why else would this house be such a mess?
I wish I could tell you that all of these details were fabricated. However, if you come to my house right now, you will see that NONE of it is made up. Oh, except the evil villain. I pray that one is not lurking. This week, all of the above has existed, in some degree. Well, without all of the ensuing accidents, but the traps are there, nonetheless!
Most likely your house isn't this bad today. I always like to make up statistics, and my husband laughs. So, in the case, I would say, "I am sure that 95% of you don't have houses that resemble my messy house, to this extent."
But for the 5% that need a word of encouragement, I am your gal.
Remember that, no matter how overwhelmed you are with household duties, and keeping up with a tidy house, we all get overly behind at times! Or, for some of us, most of the time!! I think we are harder on ourselves for such matters, than anyone else is, on expecting perfection in our homes. My goal is that my friends and neighbors can come over, without me having to apologize for my mess. We all have a different standard of excellence!
My prayer is that the Lord will give us all peace, in knowing that we are loved, even if there are dishes in the sink or piles of laundry that need to be folded.
Zephaniah 3:17
"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing."
Isn't it amazing that the Lord delights in us, and rejoices over us, with singing! Even in the midst of our chaos. I love that imagery, of God singing over me. How humbling, that the Creator of heaven and earth takes delight in me. And, I am very grateful that he doesn't really care about all of my booby traps.
This is what I want to exclaim, just about every time I walk in the door to our house. As a kid, I watched the movie, Home Alone, more times than I would like to admit. Boys especially seemed to love the painful booby traps that Kevin had cleverly devised for the robbers, Harry and Marv. They are classic slapstick moves, that I'm sure my sons will love to watch one day soon. If I can only find an old VHS tape player... Mother-in-law to the rescue!! :)
Similar booby traps have been set in my very own home, though rather unintentionally. As you may have gathered, we now live on an Army post. Marine Corps friends around the world are now throwing up in their mouths- I have been trained to say "post" now, not "base," NOOOOO!!!!! ;) Anyway, while living on a military ... property, I often let my guard down a little more than I probably should. Thankfully, my confidence is reestablished, when I think about the pitfalls that surely would come to someone attempting to purposefully ransack my home.
Here's what I imagine:
Our family has left town for the weekend. Only the ol' Jeep Wagoneer is in the driveway. The disguised villain in black, quietly creeps along the side of the house. A hole, just the size of an adult man's foot, is camouflaged with grass (that maintenance has not seemed to fill, despite my polite request). As you can only imagine, the dastardly creeper sprains his ankle.
While hobbling to the front door, cursing under his breath, he suddenly slips on small pool of motor oil in the driveway, leaked from the aforementioned vehicle. He then lands on his back, onto the scooter that was hidden, under the cover of darkness, on the sidewalk. In disbelief, he rolls onto his stomach, and he feels an object being rammed up his nose. The man reaches over to dislodge the Nerf bullet that has been painfully and unexpectedly shoved up his nose, for they are scattered around the grass. Nerf bullets, not noses, that is.
When he goes to stand up, his hand is planted into homemade play dough, that has been oddly smushed into the grass. After picking himself up once more, he swats away flies, swarming as he approaches the door, for they have been feasting on the leftover ice-cream puddles from a few days earlier, that a little curly hair child dropped onto the patio furniture. He sees smudges on the glass door, making it difficult to scope out the loot.
Taking a step into the house, he trips over the wooden train set, that a small child has left out, in the worst possible spot ever, which has miraculously become an ingenious place to foil a robber's evil plans. And yet, he is not stopped. He proceeds through the hallway, while stepping on corn chips, that have been scattered about on the wooden floors.
The kitchen seems to be the perfect room to hide, for he has heard an odd noise. Without looking, he leaps backwards, onto uncooked rice and beans, leftover from a play session that didn't quite get 100% cleaned up, after several attempts with the broom. Once again, he falls flat on his back, for the rice and beans concoction is slipperier than one would imagine. The dishes are overflowing in the sink, but he seems not to care. He leans over to peer around the corner, while bracing himself with his hand, onto a hot griddle. The screams are stifled once more. With eery shadows about him, he creeps on all fours, and his knees suddenly feel sharp pains as they bear down on crayons, artfully covering the floor.
He presses on, determined to get to the bounty. He is thankful for the air mattress that is conveniently waiting for him, in the den. "A movie night," he speculates, for a few traces of popcorn kernels remain. While laying on crushed goldfish, he appreciates the short snooze before pressing on to the treasures that await him.
He scopes out the flat screen TV, but realizes that there are too many smudges and scratches for a reasonable resale value. He decides it's not worth the effort. Approaching the stairs, he steps on numerous miniature air craft figurines, with unforgivable strength, penetrating into his feet. Up the stairs he goes, and decides to return to his childhood, reading a children's library book on the small carpeted platform area of the stairs. He ignores his reservations, which arose after observing that the carpets appear to have not been vacuumed in a few weeks. He picks up the book, Flat Stanley at Bat. Just the motivation he needs. A single rubber rain boot, he sees on the stairs, and this time he's not fooled. He avoids it, only to find a tiny toothbrush underfoot. His feet are throbbing by this point in his journey.
At the top of the stairs, he decides to go left, taking a few steps into the vacant boys' room. He-Man figures are strewn about, making this, once more, an obstacle. He hears a noise. A squeak, and then a dash across the carpet. "A rat," he shrieks, only to find an innocent Teddy Bear Hamster, named Harry. After chasing the fur ball, he reaches out to pick up the adorable hamster, only to be bitten on his finger. He faints at the sight of his own blood.
When he comes to, he sees the image of a man in the corner of the room. And the bad man freezes in fear. Upon closer look, the face looks a lot like Ronald Reagan. He runs out of the room in fright, not knowing that a Reagan mask was simply on a star shaped wall hook near the kids' costumes.
The babies room is next, with the noxious smell of dirty diapers wafting from under the door. He decides to skip this room. Wise choice.
Next the villain must squeeze around a very tall box that is blocking much of the hallway. "Moving day?," he ponders. He sees a room that must be the guest room. Piles of sheets and blankets haphazardly cover the floor. Nothing of value here.
With one last attempt at a financial gain, he tries to go through the jewels in the master bedroom. He cannot, however, find the items of value, amidst all of the costume jewelry, feathers, and bows. Discouraged, he decides to flee.
Rushing back down the stairs, he runs out through the garage, catapulting himself into the air after running into a small tricycle that was at the foot of the door. He conveniently lands on a giant inflatable ball, much like a human hamster ball. He thanks God, though he had no belief in Him prior to this safe landing.
In total shock, he tries to run out the side door, only to be blocked once again by a Rubbermaid tote. With an ultimate escape within his grasp, he passes the green trash bin, and he finally smells fresh air. He gazes upon the moon and stars. Freedom!!!
The robber then realizes, what he should have realized all along: that this house had already been looted! Why else would this house be such a mess?
I wish I could tell you that all of these details were fabricated. However, if you come to my house right now, you will see that NONE of it is made up. Oh, except the evil villain. I pray that one is not lurking. This week, all of the above has existed, in some degree. Well, without all of the ensuing accidents, but the traps are there, nonetheless!
Most likely your house isn't this bad today. I always like to make up statistics, and my husband laughs. So, in the case, I would say, "I am sure that 95% of you don't have houses that resemble my messy house, to this extent."
But for the 5% that need a word of encouragement, I am your gal.
Remember that, no matter how overwhelmed you are with household duties, and keeping up with a tidy house, we all get overly behind at times! Or, for some of us, most of the time!! I think we are harder on ourselves for such matters, than anyone else is, on expecting perfection in our homes. My goal is that my friends and neighbors can come over, without me having to apologize for my mess. We all have a different standard of excellence!
My prayer is that the Lord will give us all peace, in knowing that we are loved, even if there are dishes in the sink or piles of laundry that need to be folded.
Zephaniah 3:17
"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing."
Isn't it amazing that the Lord delights in us, and rejoices over us, with singing! Even in the midst of our chaos. I love that imagery, of God singing over me. How humbling, that the Creator of heaven and earth takes delight in me. And, I am very grateful that he doesn't really care about all of my booby traps.
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