I am at my sister's house caring for her 2 kids (Maddy - 11, Spencer - 9) and mine (Tobey - 8, Xander - 4). All has been well ... but then she called me ...
The phone rang. Maddy answers the phone and passes it to me. My sis, Vangie, is calling to remind me to put the chicken and BBQ sauce in the slow cooker for tonight's meal.
I'm PROUDLY report that I am browning the chicken at that very moment. I also have pigs-in-a-blanket in the oven for lunch and am prepping a green salad to go with it. PLUS - I just finished washing and drying the breakfast dishes which were dirtied by the biscuits, bacon (oven baked - my favorite new discovery - I will never fry bacon on the stove top again!!), and sunny-side up eggs (that I let the kids break BY THEMSELVES into a small bowl where we inspected for shells before sliding them into the frying pan - which I taught Maddy to test with little water drops in order to determine that it had reached perfect frying temp.) I've even visited with the friendly neighborhood Jehovah's Witness who directed me to 2 Timothy 3:16 (which I know by heart - so a proudly recited it to her - and I confess my heart WAS prideful - I was not sharing the word in love, but with pride - please forgive me) and have gathered the mail, let out the dogs, dressed the kids (AND myself), and yes, ALL IS WELL!!! I am SUPER SISTER!!!
And THEN I FALL - because, as we all know, pride ... comes ... BEFORE ... the ... fall. And, whoopsie, there I go - off the cliff of pride I've just constructed and climbed ALL BY MYSELF!!! Yes, I did!!!
I'm about to tell sister Vangie about all the exciting plans I've made for the afternoon. After dishes are done, we'll walk to the park, go do some shopping, I'll teach the kids some magic tricks and some poetry, and then ...
The fire alarm goes off in her house. It is incredibly loud and annoying. The smoke from the chicken I'm browning (right on schedule) has reached said alarm. In one ear, I hear Vangie instructing me to wave a towel by the alarm, and in the other ear her two dogs (a spunky Cairn terrier named Memphis, and a docile Great Dane affectionately called Alley Bear) add their voices to the regular piercing BLEEEEEEPs of the fire alarm - Memphis with a frenzied YIP, YIP, YIP and Alley with her more barritone Ah-OOOOh. I'm running around the kitchen with phone to one ear - Vangie is now instructing me to open the doors and put the dogs out (What?! I can't hear you?!) and red urban dishtowel flapping wildly in no particular direction as I've yet to determine exactly where the alarm is located. The kids appear bewildered in the kitchen, "What's going ON?!"
AAAAARGH!!! (I scream this in my head.)
My voice, though, is calm, "Oh, just a little smoke in the air. Super Me has it all under control."
"Yeah, right," says the voice in my head.
The voice on the phone says, "Ummmm ... I think I should let you go. Bye!!"
And then another voice says, "FIRE. BLEEEP. FIRE. BLEEEP. FIRE."
It's the alarm. It talks!!! Just in case I don't understand that all the BLEEPing and barking and "What's going on?"ing doesn't indicate that there's something amiss, the alarm TELLS me!!!
In the end, the smoke clears, the dogs quiet, and the kids return to their game of "hide-n-seek". And I pick myself up from the fall.
Too bad I didn't pay attention to the alarm in my head - the One that He gave me to guide me in right ways - the One that reminded me to not be SO proud. Ah, well, I little fall is good for me.