Bells and whistles

I think it started with our alarm clocks, mine and Adam's, going off at different times.  Then there was the telephone and my computer dinging every time more email rolled in.  My cell phone trilled that I had a new text.

The washing machine and the dryer chimed their songs to tell me the laundry needed to be attended to.

My oven chirped to tell me it was heated, then chirped again to tell me the cookies I was baking for cub scouts were ready.

Mark lay on the floor, with his math, whistling tunelessly.  (Is there anything worse than tuneless whistling?  Unless you count detailed descriptions of dreams.)

I thought, I'm going to go crazy from all this noise.

Then I considered for a moment.

I'm grateful Adam has a job to go to.

I'm grateful that my son has the opportunity to go to early morning seminary and learn about Jesus Christ.  I'm grateful that he asks me questions about the New Testament that I don't know the answer to so I can learn too.  I'm grateful that his devoted teacher is waking up to an even earlier alarm clock.

I'm grateful that I have ways to communicate quickly and efficiently.

I'm grateful that I don't have to go down to the river and beat my clothes against the rocks to get them clean.  I love having a washer and dryer.

I'm grateful for an oven that bakes cookies and tells me when they're done so I don't have to keep an eye on them the whole time.

And I'm grateful for my little boy.  Every day I thank my lucky stars that he is home with me, doing his math in his pajamas, trying to wheedle his way out of his school work, and whistling.

I'm grateful to notice that the things that were annoying me the most were really blessings all along.