Buttprints In The Sand

When Drew is bored he sighs a lot.  He'll walk around glumly, shoulders slumped, and while exhaling he'll drone, "I'm booooored."  I usually ignore him, which is his cue for a heavier sigh, followed by en extra exasperated, "There's NOTHING to DOOOO."  I look at him and don't say anything, but the furrow in my brow that would make the Real Housewives jump on the phone to schedule botox says, "Say that again and I'll get you a bag and some gloves and you can go show those weeds how there's NOTHING to DOOOO."  He got the point and walked away without further theatrics.  Later, I walked by the living room and saw this:

The whole room was covered with Drew's handprints in the carpet.  I guess it's better than pulling weeds.  Then I thought to myself, "Hmmm...'Handprints In The Carpet'." It reminded me of the poem "Footprints In The Sand", which is a poem I hate.  I'm sorry if you like this poem and I just offended you, but it's overdone and I find it...annoying.  Here's a clue:  when something is so popular that people start printing it on small plates for display, it's time for a new poem.  This also goes for vinyl lettering over your doorway that says, "Live, Laugh, Love" or "All Because Two People Fell In Love" or "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the number of moments that take our breath away."  Now I've really done it - I think all my readers from Mesa, Arizona and Sandy, Utah just un-followed me.  But seriously, stop it. 

If you want something more original there is inspiration everywhere. I was in a public restroom once and a four line diddy that was carved into the aluminum doors has always stuck with me:

Here I sit,

brokenhearted.

I came to crap,

but only farted.

Not that I would put that anywhere in my house, but it just goes to show there are other places to get ideas.  Then again, it's your house, do whatever you want.  Who am I, anyway?  I'm just some stupid blogger!  However, as for me and my house, I am likely to display something more like this:

BUTTPRINTS IN THE SAND

One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some strange prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat,
"But Lord, they are too big for feet."

"My child," He said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you along.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt."

"Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand."

Yeah.  That's more like it.