I learn from my children every day. Whether I'm being quizzed on goofy knock knock jokes or marveling that a single pair of shorts can hold such copious quantities of sand, every day is filled with new discoveries.
Last week, however, I was truly taught. After a morning full of nagging, I finally got Brooklyn out the door to catch the bus to school. Just as she was leaving, I noticed that her white school polo was filthy. Covered in black grime. Exasperated, I started to lecture her about how she needed to try harder to keep her clothes clean, how I couldn't keep up with all of the laundry, how she should be more responsible in getting herself ready for the day.
Brooklyn listened to my lecture without talking back, then apologized for being so slow. She told me she had been doing a secret service. Then, hiding a small smile, she asked, "Is today trash day?"
All in an instant, I realized where the grime on her shirt had come from. Even though it's not their assigned chore, Brooklyn and Talia had taken the trash cans out to the curb for me. Tears filled my eyes, and I was taught. Taught humility. Taught patience. Understanding, not judging, forgiveness. Taught love.
I wrapped those beautiful girls in my arms, hugged them until they couldn't breathe, and told them over and over again how grateful I am for them.
A stained white polo has never looked more beautiful.