The house was finally quiet as I walked into the bathroom to deal with the aftermath of three children all vying to look in the tiny mirror while they brush their teeth. And as I wiped the toothpaste off the basin, the wall and finally the shower screen I saw something that made me laugh.
I’m not sure why but I suddenly imagined the front page of the paper with the headline, “Crocodile Eats Giant Grasshopper” and I may just have giggled out loud.
I didn’t rescue the grasshopper from the jaws of his (or her) enemy. I didn’t even pick them up to save them from being stepped on by the next person to bath or shower. Instead, I did something I always mean to do but never actually get around to… I went and got my camera and took a photo.
Yes, our bath is filthy, and the light was ridiculously bad, and the flash way too strong… but I’m trying to remember that those things are not important.
It is much more important to remember the moment. The moment that made me laugh out loud in a quiet house. The moment that made me think of how crazy, quirky and funny my kids are.
The moment that I realised that life is whizzing past me way too fast and that soon there will be no more crocodiles and grasshoppers in my bath. Soon the blue stained, ancient, cast iron bath will be gone. One day even the four kids painting the walls with tooth paste will also be gone.
Why don’t I stop and remember these moments more often?
Why don’t I realise how important these every day things are?
I spend so much time trying to decide what to make for dinner, or remembering which day to send the violins to school. I’m always rushing from one activity to another and I am so guilty of wishing our days away.
I spend so much time wondering how to achieve the perfect life, when if I’d just stop for a moment, and notice the crocodile eating the grasshopper I’d realise I already have it.