A Feast

Today, the baby dragged a basket of pretend food down the stairs and announced, "I am making a feast. Will you help me?"

But I was busy.

So I said, "In a minute."

And while she put together french fry cakes and brownie shrimp with her baby dolls, I checked my email, washed the dishes, vacuumed the carpet, washed loads of laundry, reconciled a bank account...and missed out on a once in a lifetime opportunity.

She made her feast, and it kept her occupied for almost an hour. Every five minutes she would ask, "Are you not busy, yet?" And every five minutes I would say, "Almost not busy." And eventually she gave up.

And long after we'd finished up the day. Long after she was tucked safely into bed...I came across the remains of her feast. A feast she would have shared with me, if I hadn't been too busy.

It made me so sad that I briefly contemplated waking her up and apologizing. Instead, I cried a little because life seems so hard to prioritize, and memorable moments seem to float by...barely out of my reach.

And so tonight, I resolved to be less busy tomorrow. I'm hoping to wow her with my doughnut/ice cream/asparagus creation. It's a delicacy around here.

And I am determined not to miss another feast.

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