Fingerprints

THE LULU CHRONICLES

This morning when I left out on my morning ride on LuLu, I exited the house through our back sliding doors. I had to laugh. On the glass doors at about knee height were oodles and oodles of fingerprints left by my grandchildren from their last visit. Little, sweet smudges to remind me they were here.

 I got to wondering as I began my bike trek where my own fingerprints still lingered. I mean if Sherlock Holmes were to dust the city for my prints, what would he find? Okay, true confession time: My prints are at the grocery store, Hobby Lobby, and all over Diary Queen.

Think about it. When your kids left for school this morning your fingerprints were probably on their lunchboxes and backpacks, but where they on them?  Did you hug them?  Did you hold their sweet faces in your hands and wish them well? Did you rub noses?

My mailbox bears my paw prints. You never know when that million from the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes will arrive.  But how many of my fingerprints were made sending out cards of encouragement to those I know who need them?  Mr. Holmes can't tell me that.  But I know the answer.

           

When a friend is sick, does her washing machine bear my fingerprints and clean, folded towels my mark? Will her bowl of chicken soup be hard evidence that I was there?

           

When you left work today your fingerprints were on the water cooler, but will anyone take them home with them because you patted them on the back for a job well done?

           

Driving home from the grocery store when I see someone in obvious distress along the road will my fingerprints be found on their gas can or on my door lock? 

           

My fingerprints are probably still on my neighbors hedge clippers, rake, and garden hose- all things I've borrowed.  But can hers be found around my dining table?

           

Yep, I wondered what ole Sherlock's findings would be?  Fingerprints are telltale little witnesses that testify what I've been up to lately.  If they were more visible, would I make different choices? Would you?

Just thinking…

deb