Monday, November 24, 2008

Another person’s house

I was just about to head upstairs last night when I realized that I was in another person’s house. I wasn’t really in anther person’s house. I was actually in my house, standing just in front of the door on the sandy hued tiles that act as a foyer for our tiny town home.

What I mean by being in another person’s house is that I looked over towards our sunken living room where the couch, the television, the fireplace, and the children’s toys are. Covering our oak looking wood floor were the big blue play mats that act as a protection against falls for Asher’s head. They cover the majority of the floor and on top of them, at this moment in time, were the days toys. There were dolls and puppies, balls and rings. Because today’s toys are so colorful, a parent today might say that it looked as though a clown had exploded. The day’s toys could number in the hundreds, and, today, is no exception.

Tahlia had run ahead of me upstairs, and I knew that Mommy would be wrangling Asher in the tub while stiff-arming Tahlia from joining him. For a moment, however, I was unable to pull my eyes away from what I saw.

I was thirteen again. I was standing in somebody else’s house. I don’t remember exactly whose house it was, but I was there to babysit. I had just entered through the door that led away from the garage, and my eyes were accosted by the barrage of toys strewn about. I couldn’t comprehend why the owner of this house hadn’t taken any time, in the past week, to clean up the flood of toys submerging the room. As a thirteen-year-old boy, I did not realize that these were just the toys from the day; I thought they must have been collecting on the floor, like dust balls, for months.

“Daddy, can you come up soon,” I am back in our house, and I suddenly remember that I need to bring Tahlia’s three drinks and two vitamins upstairs. Tahlia won’t bathe herself, and Asher’s diaper needs to be administered.

I tear my gaze off of that other person’s floor, for, it couldn’t possibly be ours, to head upstairs where, I will find my family. As I put one child down, I may dream about the beauty of having a baby sitter come over while not caring what he or she decides about the appearance of the house.

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