Our six children could produce a lot of messes. But the biggest mess-maker of all was my husband, Shannon.
Shirts on the floor, dirty socks left by the couch. Everywhere the aftermath from Hurricane Shannon. “Put away your clothes!” I called to him when I saw the laundry basket full of clean wash.
Shannon left for a 10-day business trip the next morning—but his clean clothes were not put away. Plus, he’d tossed dirty clothes right on top of them!
These next ten days will be a welcome break. I’ll have time to relax, read a book, maybe even do some painting, I thought.
With the kids at school I took a seat at my easel. But as I pulled the paintbrush across the canvas, a voice seemed to whisper, If Shannon were here he’d cheer you on while you worked.
I missed his laughter at the dinner table. That night I missed his good-night kiss. In short, I missed Shannon!
Finally he returned. He walked through the door, kicked off his shoes and left them in the middle of the hall.
I jumped over them to give him a hug. Hurricane Shannon might drive me crazy, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.
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