Dirty Doorways

This afternoon as I cleaned our home in preparation for guests tomorrow evening, I discovered my doorways were once again dirty. It seems the bathroom is the worst case, attacked by food particles refusing to be washed off tiny hands, and thus remaining to add color to the otherwise white wood. Another spot is the boys' room, where I could almost measure the stature of two little fellows, who touch the door frame as they enter and exit.

And even though I did wash the marks away, the task found me thinking about the two blessings who leave them there each day. Soon there won't be any dirty doorways to clean, only memories to warm my empty nest days.