Mack plopped herself down on my bed.  Lying on her stomach, she stretched out the width of it, crossed her arms in front of her, and rested her head on her crossed arms.

“Mom, my phone is dying.  Can I get some money from my account.  Dad says that when we are with him this weekend we might be able to run to WalMart and get one of those cheapie phones.”

I continued sweeping my bathroom floor.  The goal was to sweep and mop the master bathroom and then move on to vacuuming the stairs.  “I don’t know, Mack, maybe we can get to the bank later this afternoon.”

Mack nodded and asked an unrelated question.  And then another.  I finished my sweeping, but left the mop leaning against the wall.  My daughter was in the mood to talk.  Our conversation lasted for two hours.  We covered almost every topic imaginable.  We talked about our upcoming family vacation, the consequences of dishonesty, laundry, the purpose of child support payments, what some of her friends are doing this summer, some doctrinal points from our religion, and much more.  At one point Mack got emotional about some information I gave her that touched her heart.  She made a commitment to try one of my suggestions.  And the mop didn’t move from the wall.

Dale Carnegie in his book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, tells the story of a short conversation between a mother and her son:

Robert:  “Mom, I know that you love me very much.”

Mrs. Esposito:  “Of course I love you very much.  Did you doubt it?”

Robert:  “No, but I really know you love me because whenever I want to talk to you about something you stop whatever you are doing and listen to me.”  (pg. 83) 

Listening and talking to my daughter delayed my morning routine by two hours.  Did Mack feel more loved because I stopped what I was doing and listened to her?  I don’t know, that never came up in the conversation, but I do know that it was a conversation that I wouldn’t have missed for the world!

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