Oh, it’s a pleasant surprise to see an interoffice mail envelope in a lovely shade of blue.

Today, be that pleasant surprise for someone.  Give them a smile or a word of encouragement.  Help them shake free from manila.  Give them a better shade of blue.

Returning home, I had a smile on my face.  I had just purchased a new variety of beer and I could picture myself, sunny day, beer in hand, relaxing.  Oh, it was going to be nice.

First, I headed to the basement to store the rest of the six pack.  Landing on the bottom step, the universe frowned on my happy thoughts.  The bottom of the cardboard six pack holder gave way and my precious beer tumbled to the Earth.  Well, more like rocketed.  It was as if gravity accelerated and my beer was trying to tunnel into the ground.

A bottle exploded.  Almost popped in two.  Well, except for the piece of glass that flew at my leg.  Yes, my new beer friend drew first blood.

Fresh bandage on my leg.  Paranoid that I would need stitches (I most certainly do not).  I scrubbed the carpet with a towel.  Soaking up the beer, which never got a chance to be enjoyed.

It’s been a lousy week.  You know the kind where troubles blot out all the sunshine.  That kind of week.  Lousy.

Tonight, after dinner, I finally got around to mowing the lawn.  As I mowed, I saw something make the grass shake.  Out from the grass jumped a small toad.  No, I did not hurt the toad.  This is not that type of post.  No, instead I steered clear.  Gave the toad a chance to escape to the safety of the flower bed.  Then I continued mowing.

This got me thinking.  You see life’s troubles can seem overwhelming.  Like you cannot escape.  God however is bigger than those troubles.  The dear Lord can help you to the other side.  See you to safety.

Well, you see, my analogy was not that great.  Sure, I’m the toad, but is the grass troubles?  Is God the lawnmower?  I’m not sure, but in the momentary exhaustion of a tiring week, it all seemed to make sense.

Not a direct sort of sense, but just enough to provide a shot of faith.  A little assurance that everything is gonna be okay.  God will help you through, bad analogy and all.

The dishes had been cleaned.  Dinner was a distant memory.

I looked as my teenager headed toward the kitchen.  Boxes were opened.  Food was poured.

Soon, my teen emerged with a bowl overflowing with a combination of whole grain Cheerios and Goldfish crackers.

No doubt, it was a impulse nighttime snack.

No doubt, he may have created a combo for the ages.  A little salty.  A little sweet.

A little excessive.  A little mad genius.

And the award for “Most Pitiful Sprinkler of the Year” goes to…

Although, I have to say, that single weed looks very happy.

Early Sunday and time for the final games of the baseball season.  I had camped out along the Right Field foul line and was watching my oldest son warm up.  I had driven him to the field early.  Now, I waited for the arrival of my wife and my other two boys.

The sun was shining bright for 8:30.  As I slipped off my sandals, the grass was tall and damp under my feet.  I scanned beyond the Left Field fence looking for the rest of my family to appear.

The top of the first inning ended without much excitement and I kept my eye to the trail leading from the parking lot.

Soon, I saw figures that I recognized.  From 500 feet away, I spotted my wife.  The vision was blurred by distance, but there I saw her walking with my boys.  I recognized her shirt.  I instantly knew her gait.

I smiled.  Today would be a fine day at the ballpark.  My love had arrived.

You know the baseball season is coming to an end, when trying to locate your son through the crowd of umbrellas begins to resemble a game of “Where’s Waldo?”

Looking…

Looking…

Found him!

I think…

The clock read 4-something AM.  I tossed and I turned.

Something horrible had happened.  Enough to ruin a good man’s sleep.

Sadly, I was too tired to act.  I was there, caught between asleep and awake.

Paralyzed by the situation.  Powerless to act.

My head resting on the mattress pad.  I wallowed in my sadness.  Crumpled up sheets under my chest.

The fitted sheet had failed me.  Popped off the corner, while all was dark.

Now all that’s fitted is a bad night of sleep.  No tuck in that corner.  No rest for the weary.

I jumped up.

I grabbed hold.

Adjusting my grip, I reached out.

My hand held tight.

Swinging my body forward, I grabbed hold with the next hand.

I swung again and again and again.

Reaching the end, I dropped to my feet and looked back.

It may have taken 45 years, but this boy finally finished off a set of monkey bars.

So here at www.CookiesbyDave.com, when I don’t have a topic for the day, I look back through my old notes for topics/ideas.  With any luck, I find a classic that I had stashed away for later.

Today, when I glanced through my list I found the note, “Muddy Girls.” Only problem, I have no idea what that was supposed to mean.  No recollection whatsoever.

Weird, yes.  Odd, yes.  Still no clue what it means, yes.  Tonight’s blog post cancelled for a while whole slew of reasons, yes.

My apologies, Muddy Girls.