What a day!

Do you remember the poem by Shel Silverstein, What A Day?

What a day

oh what a day

My baby brother ran away,

And now my tuba will not play.

I'm eight years old

and turning grey, Oh what a day, Oh what a day.

The illustration that came along with this poem was a boy playing his tuba. His baby brother was in the tuba, that is why the tuba will not play. I felt like the boy playing the tuba the other day but my poem would have gone like this...............

What a day

oh what a day

My three year old is puking away,

Ad now my SUV will not start.

I'm thirty-four years old

and turning grey, Oh what a day,Oh what a day.

I thought of this poem last night as I was falling asleep. Aside from the premature graying, which he really should have the doctor look at; everything was fine. His baby brother was not missing and his tuba was not broken. I think when we have days that seem to be an endless assault of mishaps and inconveniences we tend to look to the heavens and say, " what else can happen to me today?" Once we step back from the situation and survey what has happened many times simple resolutions are the remedy. The three year old is recovering, the SUV was towed and it was an inexpensive fix and at the end of the day all those other inconveniences and mishaps seemed to go away. I seem to get wrapped up in the moment and let my frustrations take over for a few brief moments..or hours; depending on my mood. I just need to remember to take a step back and look for the baby brother in the tuba and then I can play.