May 18th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson
A couple months ago, an old boyfriend of mine asked, “How much money did I spend on you when we were together?” I quickly bought my eye roll. “You didn’t spend any money on me, you were broke.”
He adjusted his stature and tone, the re-approached me. “You have Idle Hands! Let’s make some money together.”
I thought to myself, I don’t have idle hands. I take care of my child, my husband, and my house. At the end of the day, my hands don’t feel idle. He saw me deep in thought and let me ponder. Normally I would’ve snapped back, probably why he’s an ex. Instead, I said “I’m listening.”
“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. I’m starting a web page and I want your face and opinions.” I held his productive hands in my idle hands and blew him off.
I got to much going on in my life to deal with this. The next morning I awoke to the sound of my three year old pouring her own cereal. I walked in the kitchen to find she had already dressed herself. I told her I was proud of her. I was glad she didn’t have idle hands.
There were no dishes to wash, the floors had been vacuumed and I had nothing to do before I took her to school. I tried to volunteer in her class for the day, but another parent had beat me to the punch. I went home with nothing to do.
Usually I would play video games in my spare time. (Don’t knock it, till you try it) Today I wasn’t in the mood. I flipped through the channels and up pops a random church service. Can you guess what the topic was?
So in a matter of twelve hours, I’d had a thought provoking exchange with a man who used to think being hard was more important than being smart, my daughter showed her independence, and god sent me a message via comcast.
I realized I had been idle, stuck, and unaware of my immobility.
So now I’m a blogger.
Let’s eliminate defeatist thinking, unexisting boundaries, and lead filled boots to cure our communties of idle hands.