Every Sunday our newspaper is waiting on the lawn when we wake up in the morning.
Every Sunday morning I divide the paper into sections and go through the coupons and store inserts while I eat breakfast.
Every Sunday afternoon I pass by the neatly folded, still untouched paper sitting on the coffee table a thousand times, each time vowing to sit down and read it as soon as (insert whatever part of my day prevents me from actually sitting down).
Every Sunday evening after I put the kids to bed, I plop down on the couch to bond with my husband (if he’s home) or my DVR (if he’s not), spying the lonely unread newspaper in the corner of my eye.
And every Sunday night I go to bed without having read the Sunday paper.
Sometimes I manage to read 1 or 2 sections on Sunday, then another section on Monday, and hopefully by Tuesday I can finish it. But usually the newspaper hits the recycling bin on Wednesday, crushed by feelings of inadequacy for not fulfilling its life’s mission of informing its owner.
I'm sure you can guess what I did today. Yes, I read the entire Sunday paper! Well, maybe I didn't read the Want Ads or the local sports section, and maybe I skimmed through some of the articles instead of reading every single word, but when I put that paper in the recycling bin this evening, I can assure you that it was laid to rest feeling no inadequacy whatsoever.
ALL IN THE FAMILY
Big C shows Mommy how it's done.