In praise of this ordinary day.
This day where you stumble bleary-eyed
into the shower.
This day where you make lunches
and defuse arguments
before breakfast.
And like every other day,
somehow manage
to get the kids to school on time.
This day where you hang washing,
and run errands,
and mop floors,
and clean bedrooms.
This day where you cook,
and clean,
and wipe,
and sweep.
And then do it all again.
This day where life is normal,
ordinary,
mundane.
This day,
yes, even this day
is to be praised.
For on this day you set aside your impatience
and your exasperation.
On this day you continued
in the face of unrelenting sameness.
On this day you loved
On this day you served.
On this day you fed.
On this day you clothed.
On this day you sheltered.
On this day you created a home.