Despite my last post, I really do think I'll keep Nathan. And if I wasn't sure, today God and Nate worked in concert to convince me that children can be useful.
In the past year, every time I go to DSW... and I know this is probably weird, but I don't care if you judge me... I always pray that I will find a pair of brown leather, closed-toed, pumps for an incredible deal. I'm super picky and super cheap. Needless to say, it's been a while.
DSW is one of Nathan's favorite stores. It has loads of shoes, all within toddler reach and there are aisles to run down, mirrors to breathe on and people sitting down, struggling to shove their feet into boots to stare at. Toddler heaven.
I hate going to DSW with Nathan. Because there are loads of shoes, all within toddler reach and there are aisles to run down, mirrors to breathe on and people sitting down, struggling to shove their feet into boots to stare at. Mommy purgatory.
But I had a coupon that expired today. So we went and I headed straight for the clearance racks, as usual, and put the child down to consider a pair of overly-priced-even-on-clearance-but-they're-Michael-Kors-so-I-love-them heels. My son immediately walked over to a box, pulled out two matching shoes, walked back over to me and chucked them at my feet. Two Nine West brown leather, closed-toed pumps. On clearance from $80 to $20. He grinned. I grinned back.
Finally something we can agree on.
With the two coupons I had, the shoes were five dollars. Total. And to add blessing to good fortune, I walked out of that store with two pairs of heels, one pair of Steve Madden socks (all my socks are developing holes) and one pair of lavender tights for twenty dollars. Total.
It doesn't surprise me that God answers my prayers, especially one as (pathetically) oft-repeated as this. And it really shouldn't surprise me that he answers prayers through my son. After all, despite my threats of selling him on ebay, Nathan is an answer to a year and a half of heart-felt prayer, himself.
It is exceedingly appropriate, however, that the answer to my prayers was chucked at me by my 15-month-old son. Literally.
That's so us.