Who's the Boss?

(Sorry, no homage to the 80's sitcom.)

It was a warmer day today. It's in the double digits and it looks to be in the 20's even! This is important due to the siding project we've been after all week. We've been painting the siding/trim inside our heated garage and installing it once it's dry. Our last pieces just happen to be the most difficult pieces to place: the soffits. We have an incredibly steep pitch and it won't be super fun, even though it's my husband who will be up the ladder. We do have a real ladder and not the "ladder of death" that had been in use during the construction of the garage (2x4's nailed together to form a ladder). I find some relief in that fact.

This project has revealed in me my intense desire not to be bossed around. Being a 2nd child, I was often placed under the authority of my older sister. Not until she went to college did I get to be the boss, and even then, it was only for 2 years until I went as well. It's probably a good thing I was not born first. I REALLY like to be the boss. Just ask my younger brothers. Wait. Please don't.

I was reminded of how much I have always liked to be in control. I think I was around 6 or 7 when I decided I would be better off on my own. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess it was due to the fact I was being told to do something that I didn't like. I don't actually remember that part. Well, off I went carrying some provisions I imagine. I began my journey down our driveway to find my little brother tailing me and asking if he could come with me. I really couldn't be burdened with such a task, so I tried my best to discourage his desires. I believe it came down to literally losing him in the corn field that flanked our driveway at that time. Oh, now I was free! I was imagining my mom feeling heartbroken at the thought of me gone forever. If only she had just left me alone and relieved me of my chores, I may have just stayed. I just knew I'd gotten to her with this one. Picture Ralphie in a Christmas Story thinking of his parents distress at having poisoned him blind by soap! I had no real idea of where I was going or what I'd do, but I just knew I had to leave. (Insert dramatic flair heavily!)

My guess of what happened at home goes a little like this: my brother goes home crying that I was being mean to him and that he was scared after getting lost in the corn. My mom then soothes my brother and likely laughs and sighs at the same time trying to think of whatever she will do with me. I imagine she may have called my Aunt who lived a mile and a half away on our country dirt roads and asked her to call her when I got to her house. I think this, because when I passed their house and got to the corner, ready to trek down the pavement, my mom just so happened to drive up. She nonchalantly opened the door and asked what I was doing. I, not going to give up my plans so easily, told her I was simply going for a walk. With a few provisions. She mentioned that they were going into town for some errands and ice cream and wondered if I'd like to go along.

Oh dear. You know, walking that far was making me hungry. A bit of ice cream would be nice. Maybe I'll hold off the running away for a bit. At least until after the ice cream. I climbed in the car. While we were eating the ice cream, Mom did mention that my brother was scared and it wasn't very nice to make him lost. I think I remember some other mention of how it wouldn't be very nice to run away either. I think I may have tuned that part out a little and drowned it with ice cream. Sorry, Mom.

I still have a hard time admitting that my way isn't necessarily the right way. I tend to question the different options as a way to suggest that if it was just done the way I said, it would be easier, and I can't imagine a better way of doing something. Unfortunately, my husband will occasionally do something my way and show me my error. Only after that does he explain why his way was the better option. Why do I need such a visual?

I am so often trying to "do life" my way. I am feeling a bit like I've just crawled into the car and my excitement for "ice cream" may eventually be the motivational tool God uses to really change my course. I'm glad I got into the car. I can't wait to see where we go! I just hope my excitement carries me through the difficult times that will inevitably come. I know I'll have some talking-to's that will continue to adjust my heart attitude. I'll probably have moments where God will allow me to do it my way and later show me how His way was actually the better option. But I'm still glad I got into the car.

Now, two scoops! Oh...and...uh...please?!