Sometimes sugar hits the floor, ensuring crunchy steps and sticky feet unless mopping immediately follows. Sometimes flour spills or too much vanilla or mixing beaters splatter.
Sometimes I scold or irritated sigh or grit my teeth. Sometimes I breathe in and suck all of the joy right out of the room. Sometimes I narrow my eyes and wish I could have just done it without all the help.
Sometimes I'm alone in the kitchen, scrambling breakfast. Sometimes the girls are playing happily together (a miracle, indeed), opposite end of the house.
Sometimes an egg, perfect and whole, slips from my fingers and smashes on the floor.
I need Your grace
to remind me
to find my own. *