That moment when your son uses your own words (spoken into life through dozens of sermons, hundreds of conversations, and even writings in this medium) to explain the mess he has created… Here’s how the conversation transpired::
(Father:: standing over quite the mess of breakfast food remains upon the carpet)
Rance, look at how dirty this floor has become in our apartment. Who is responsible for this?
(Rance:: pause… thinking and looking at the carpet)
Probably brother and I, Dadda.
(Father:: pause… startled by the disarming honesty of this statement)
Well… Can you explain why you and your brother have made such a mess and left it for your Momma and I to vacuum and clean?
(Rance:: no pause… instant answer)
Because we are a messy people, Dadda.