Note to self -- Don't feed a toilet-training toddler a Nutella sandwich. Particularly if she, like so many three-year-olds is naked. One would think that you could reliably consider the brown smudges to differentiate at about the child's equator, but I know she left the table with a smudge of Nutella on her ankle and I'm not sure the smudge around her eyebrow was there when she left, announcing loudly "I've got to go POOOOOOPY."
She usually gets it right. It's the wiping part that doesn't always work, and sometimes it goes very wrong. The juxtaposition of Nutella and a pooptastrophe was something I hadn't foreseen. She always hollers from the bathroom "Mommy! I want you to watch meeee!" And often I will sit with her as she does her business. It's a delightful time to chat and hug and do nose kissies as I sit on the footstool before her little throne. This time however, her baby sister was in the high chair and since the little one figured out how to turn around and stand up, it wasn't prudent to go watch the three-year-old.
She came back, naked and smudged with brown stuff and I knew it wasn't all Nutella. But she was grinning that grin that contains all the sunshine in the universe, blissfully unaware that there was anything wrong. She was my child, beaming at me with delight and love and a soon to be disappointed desire to sit on my lap. I vacillated between being a bit grossed out and laughing out loud. Laughing won.
I've thought of her like that so often. How that's really how life presents itself to us. It's the uncontainable bliss of a child. It's the gift from GOD / THE UNIVERSE / whatever the heck you call the big unknown we're all connected to. But sometimes there's chocolatey goodness and sometimes there's something that stinks. And so often we lose sight of the DELIGHT that is ours in every moment. We lose sight of the JOY that is our birthright as spiritual beings having a human experience. Even if all you're experiencing is a sweet confection, there is still more delight under that. And if you're experiencing a little of life's crap, I can promise you, you can get rid of it very easily by focusing on the delight beneath.
If you've ever given a three year old a shower while fending off a crawling baby, you'll know there are suds and wiggles and giggles, and you'll all wind up wet, but with the arms of a child around my neck, and a tiny one pulling up to stand against my leg, life couldn't be better no matter what it's smeared with.
