Grandchildren in Church and a Brother in My Kitchen

I had three of my grandchildren at church with me on Sunday.  In such situations, I sit on the back row in case of emergencies...like when I need to give them a look that says their lives are in danger without being observed by the whole congregation.  Our church sanctuary is curved.  I usually sit on the front row with Tommy until he rises to preach - and then I am left there alone, trying to look as put together and attentive as I can look.  I refuse to try to look that way with three children asking me 'how much longer?'  I don't know how to glare at them and look sweet at the same time...but I am working on it.
So, come Monday, we are spent, even without grandchildren.  I could barely open one eye this morning.  I thought, 'oh well, one eye is better than none.' My allergies were attacking me without reason and I could not fight back. I put on the most comfortable thing I could find and decided today was a day to stay home.
My brother called and wanted to come over and talk.  This usually means he talks and I listen as patiently as I can until his voice rises to a decibel point that causes me to start looking around the room for a frying pan. This time he wanted advice...which I thought I was fresh out of, but since there was no one else in the room, I managed to offer some crumbs of wisdom that lay on the unmopped floor.  My brother likes to sit at my kitchen table and drink tea while venting about life's issues.  I tried to look as if I cared, but in my mind, I was grabbing the mop and loading the dishwasher.  Before long, I was grabbing that mop and loading that dishwasher, all while making pumpkin soup on the stove.  I asked if he wanted some. He shook his head and made a face, so I forced him to try it.  He ate two bowls.  He reached for the last Reese's peanut butter cup that the plague of locusts left over the weekend then asked me if I knew how good those were. I shook my head no, because I did not get one.  And he gobbled it down.
My brother and I are less than one year apart.  We have been somewhat close all of our lives. I am thankful for my family....all of them.  I am glad that he still thinks I can help him in some way and that my kitchen is some sort of counseling center for the unable.  If there are any pearls worth sharing, they are from God who chooses to use a woman who barely combed her hair today and slapped on just enough makeup so her brother would not ask any questions about her swollen face.
He left in search of his grandson who was getting out of school soon.
My days are no different than yours, I am sure.  My goal in life is simple - to bring God glory in all I do, think, and say everyday.  Sometimes it means staying home and listening to my brother...and loving my grandchildren enough to sing with them on the back row of church. Life is good.