Middles

Wednesdays are under appreciated. The poor day gets the title "Over-the-Hump" day. It's the halfway mark of the week. . . ho, hum. But I kind of like Wednesdays. After all, if you've reached Wednesday, that means Monday is over, and most of us can really appreciate that. And Saturday, that beloved of all days, is just around the bend. I like Wednesdays, too, because generally it's a quieter day for my family, and after the hustle and bustle of Monday and Tuesday, I'm ready for the quiet. Plus, it was the day I was born on which naturally makes it a good day. But most of all, it's a middle.

I'm partial to middles, being one myself: the middle of the candy bar, the middle of vacation, the middle of a good book, the middle of a cup of coffee. If you're in the middle of a good thing, it means you still have some good left. The middle of the Bible is the Psalms, and that's one of my favorite books. And then there's my middle child, also born in the middle of the week.

He's in that same category of good things that I enjoy. He's usually in the middle of a project, which means he's in the middle of a big mess. But he's also in the middle of being helpful and in the middle of being funny. He keeps us in stitches with his silly jokes and goofy antics. He's the child who told me one of the branches of government was the License Plate Branch and told someone else that they were up until "forty-nine hundred hours." So on this middle day of the week, I'm just pausing in the middle of this blog to be thankful for, well . . . middles.

Middles