Flesh Woman

On Wednesday evenings I am meeting with some women to study together. We are discussing the book, Having a Mary Spirit, by Joanna Weaver. This past week we talked about Flesh Woman. You see, there is a common misperception about Christian ladies: they are saintly beings. To many perhaps that is how we appear, but on the inside we fight with the flesh just as Paul did. Thus the term "Flesh Woman." Yesterday, Flesh Woman showed up at my house. #1 has lost the tuner for the guitar. It was about time to go to the first lesson, and we were searching for the tuner. I was looking in his closet, and he was looking through his "treasure box." I turned around to look at him, and I heard him say, "Blegh," and flick something under the chest of drawers. Faster than Superman and Flash Gordon combined, Flesh Woman zipped to the nearest phone booth, tore off her street clothes, and came back in her red leotard! "AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!" I screamed, and stomped my foot through the floor like a good mother should. "What are you doing? You don't flick something under the chest of drawers! Where should it go?" "In the garbage can," he faintly whispered. "Is that a garbage can?!" I continued with my ranting. By now the poor boy was turning white and had tears in his eyes. "No," he mouthed. "Then why would you flick it under there? If it is "Blegh" out here, it will only be ten thousand times more "Blegh" under there!" And then I continued the tyrade. "This is why you can't find anything when you need it! You just toss things around and leave the room looking like Hell! (Yes, Flesh Woman actually said that.) If you boys would put things back where they go ...AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" and I left the room. I don't understand why a basket for the dirty laundry can be two inches away- I am NOT exaggerating!- and the clothes end up on the floor. I don't get why there is a garbage can in the room with them, and they put the garbage under the chest or bed. I don't understand leaving a bed covered with stuff, and sleeping on the edge; it can't be comfortable. I just don't get it. After about 20 minutes Flesh Woman had left the premises long enough for me to come to my senses and apologize to #1. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I'm sorry. I just love my house so much, and to see you treat it with such disrespect really makes me angry." You can always apologize with a lecture when you are a Good Christian Mother. ------------- Here is how a day can fall apart. Wednesday morning I needed to wash the boys' bedding. It was stinking. I discovered that the dog has been going in there when we leave the house and getting on all of their things. She threw up on the bed on Tuesday. So Wednesday morning I get school started, and then begin the laundry. It was very windy, and so I thought, this will be perfect for the clothesline. Actually the wind blew so hard, that I couldn't keep anything on the line. I tried for a couple of hours, but finally the wind won, and I put things in the dryer. On the second load, the washer stopped. I figured it had something to do with the pillow that fell apart on the first load, so I started tearing apart the washer. "Why didn't you call a handyman?" you may ask. Because I have before, and he told me to stop washing pillows. So I tore into the washer and spent the rest of the day draining it, cleaning it, and putting it all back together. In between we had a couple of errands to run, mouths to feed, and children to care for. What started out as a simple day of washing bedding turned into an all day event. I think I will just throw away the pillows from now on.