TITLE: Family Feud
By Megan Starbuck
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
He leaned back in his chair and smiled. It was a smile of victory—for, though he had lost many battles, he had won the war. He had conquered the female species.
From the outside, his family was exemplary. It had to be, given his profession as a pastor. His house, with its perfectly manicured yard (kept so by himself—for only he would take such good care of it) was located in the heart of a fine neighborhood.
His daughters…well, they were girls, and they wore clothes. Lots of them. The problem was that they couldn’t wear all of their clothes at once, and so they left the rest in the middle of their floor. Technically it was his floor, but he let them use it since they didn’t have a house of their own yet. As he stared at the piles of clothes in the floor, he wondered why they even had carpet…the clothes were sufficiently providing soft warmth for any bare feet that might dare to enter the room. However, that’s the moment this father decided to do some remodeling for his beloved daughters.
Oh, he had fun with it, too.
The sun was shining gloriously through the clouds as he opened the second-story window. Throwing had always been his best athletic ability, and he enjoyed it now more than ever. He had already been wanting to do some redecorating of the perfectly manicured yard anyway.
A rainbow of colors fluttered out the window and onto the front lawn, making neighbors blink and squint to be sure they were seeing what they thought they were seeing. A smile would creep onto their faces as they realized the preacher must’ve finally gone mad. Their day definitely became less boring as they watched polka dots and stripes stream from the window. T-shirts and jeans took flight, and dresses and skirts waved in the wind as if to say goodbye to their prison and hello to the great outdoors. It was a magical moment.
Piece by piece the preacher man revealed the carpet, won the war, and then sat in his office chair where we found him basking in the victory. After a few minutes of smiling in satisfaction, he began paperwork with a vigor that wasn’t usually there. But nothing could spoil his current mood. Not paperwork, not his daughters’ shrieks of horror and laughter, not the gloomy rain that had begun falling—not even his wife’s voice from the kitchen calling out to him. Today, he had done the impossible: he had won the war.
Then he realized what his wife was saying.
“At least the clothes were clean before you threw them out the window! Now they’re soaked and filthy…and I’m not washing them. And I’m not letting the girls wash them. You are going to wash every single article of clothing you threw out.”
She might as well have said, “The war isn’t over. In fact, you just lost another battle.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.