I thought it was going to be one of those defining moments in my life.
There we were, gathered around the table for dinner. My 4 princesses and me.
It had already been a day... a day from, well, hell.
Day 2 of fevers and sore tummies. Day 2 of snow and ice covering the ground. Day 2 of being cooped up.
We were ALL done.
I'd already melted down once. When I went to make dinner (waffles) and found that we were out of flour.
When it's already been a day from hell, something little like that can really set a mama off.
I was saved by a stack of waffles preserved in the freezer that I had forgotten about.
God's little nudge that it was all ok.
I salvaged myself and got us all to the table.
That's when princess #4 said in her sweet innocent baby voice, "pway! pway!" as she reached across the table for her sisters' hands.
I said a quick blessing.
And then it happened.
Princess #3 spoke up. And in her wise 3 year old voice began:
"I want to pray to Jesus..."
And I thought, this is it. I've come to my very end, I'm no longer able to manage on my own strength and God is going to speak to me right now, here at my dinner table, through my 3 year old.
She stuttered around a bit as she often does when her brain gets ahead of her voice. You could almost see the wheels turning.
She began again:
"I want to pray to Jesus that on my birthday, I want Santa to bring me..."
Uh, hold on. This is not going the way I thought it was.
"I want Santa to bring me a DS, pink phone, iPad, computer, and light up toothbrush."
Just keepin' it real.