Every now and then, I have these moments. Moments when, like the Grinch's heart, mine swells three sizes. Not that I think I have a small heart like the Grinch started out with, but you get the idea. My heart just feels so full that I think it's a medical wonder that it hasn't exploded out my chest wall yet.
Today I had one of those as we came home from church. We go to the 11a service, and then Hubby talks shop with the worship team after service gets out about 12:15ish (heavy on the ish some weeks), so we often don't get out of there until 12:45p. And that's on a good week.
Given that our morning started out with the twin Fries deliberately not getting up to go potty and peeing through their diaper/nighttime Pull-up, jammies and bed sheets, the morning hadn't exactly gone well. In retrospect, it makes the heart-explosion moment even more powerful.
Hubby chose Wendy's for lunch this Sunday, and we zipped through the drive-through and then came home.
The moment happened as we pulled into the driveway.
"It's our home!" Large Fry squealed with excitement. "It's our home!"
I will never tire of hearing any of them say those words.
It's our home.
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