Poop.

Yes.  poop.

Travel back in time with me to Thursday. I'll begin with how things unfolded so you can grasp the level of grenade-like frustration that I will be telling you in a few moments ...

Thursday, after work, I walk into my house feeling a slight bit guilty over minimal dad / daughter-wife-dog time.  I quickly find out that Christen really wants to make it to Bible study that night, but she will make it only if she finishes her homework.  So I decide to take Charlie and Isabella for a nice stroll, figuring this will get me in some time with my loved ones & free up Christen to get her work done.

The walk was great!  Beautiful outside. Charlie was barking at every creature about his size or smaller and Isabella was taking it all in.

Then, we returned home.  When I walked in the door, Christen handed me a bottle and I started feeding little Isa.  While I fed her, I did the "dad dance."  You know the dance if you ever watched a new dad holding their child.  Hips swaying like they are listening to Jazz music, feet sliding from side to side like a pathetic break-dance and shoulders shifting like a boat lost at sea.  As the dance was in full swing, I heard Christen say these fateful words:  "Anth, I smell poop."  At that moment, I took in a deep breathe and my nostrils picked up what my wife's nostrils were picking up.

Poop.

I quickly looked down and when my eyes saw the 2,829,039 poop marks on my carpet (which we just had professionally cleaned 3 weeks ago), I lost it.

Apparently I stepped in crap-o-la somewhere on my walk and dragged it seemingly on every square inch of my carpet.  This was a first. I have to tell you; it doesn't take a lot to frustrate me; but it does take a lot to ruin my night.  I found myself on my hands and knees scrubbing every mark I could find.  I then took one look at Isabella and reasoned that spot cleaning will just not satisfy.

While this is going on, Christen is trying to get her work done; Isabella is setting records in cry decibels and I have approximately 45 minutes till Bible study. I found myself in a situation where even a saint would pull their hair out.

I seriously could not think of a lesson in all this mess.  One would think a great lesson would be the Lord teaching me about picking up after Charlie; you know, "My son, this is what you get for letting Charlie poo-poo in everyone's yard for the past 9 1/2 years." But the thing is,  I already pick up after Charlie 95 percent of the time.  So I had a hard time figuring out what I could learn from this smelly incident -until after Bible study- over 4 hours after everything developed.  The lesson is simple:
I should not have been this angry 4 hours after the incident.  Life could be a lot worse.  Being this mad after so many hours have passed is totally unnecessary.  Despite what I think or however anyone else would react, I, Anthony Kladitis do not need to stay mad over this incident for such a long period.  Honestly, part of me wanted to hang onto the feeling of frustration and anger. Somehow, I thought I was justified due to what I had to endure.  But the reality is, I needed to get over it.  And I did.  

I bet there are things that you need to get over too. Things that happened longer than 4 hours ago in your life that you should get over right now.  But you hold on and allow whatever poop that entered your life to spread ... and now you stink. This is how anger works.  It spreads to other areas in your life and then you start to reek. Over time people lose their desire to be in your presence and you isolate yourself from your loved ones.

The poop incident was hopefully a "first time for everything" ordeal.
However, I am hoping the lesson I learned endures till the next time I step in whatever mess life throws at me.