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I try to be Christ-like. I try to do the right things. I try to say the right words. I try to think the right thoughts.
I try to smile at people as they pass. I try to support the appropriate causes. I try to love my neighbors even when they don’t love me back. I try to be kind and supportive to those in need.
Every day, I try to be like Christ.
Every day, I fail. I laugh at the wrong joke. I pass judgment on someone else’s life. I turn a blind eye to life’s injustice.
“What if every tow truck ran out of gas?”
“How do bodies get to heaven after they’ve been buried?”
“‘Si usted está contento y usted sabe que aplaudas! That means, ‘If you’re happy and you know it clap you hands!”
It’s not unusual for a period of 15 minutes with Squirts to follow this or some similar line of conversation. Sometimes, it’s like trying to chase popcorn. Just when you think you know where a topic is headed…pop, we’re off in another direction.
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Always anxious to show off some newly discovered skill or knowledge, Squirts noticed the digital clock at the front of the car. From the back, he pointed and said, “Daddy, it’s 10:51. I know that number. That 5 and 1 make 51! It’s 10:51.”
Always anxious to affirm his newly discovered skill or knowledge, I make the appropriate “oohs” and “ahhs” about how smart he must be to know it’s 10:51.
Never let it be said that my son doesn’t know how to milk a moment: He begins singing at full volume “10:51, 10:51, 10:51, 10:51,” his voice moving progressively up the musical scale which each utterance of the time.
We were at Target buying a couple of birthday presents. Squirts had recently turned two and was standing in the cart as he and I headed to the toy section. Yes, I said standing in the cart, OK? And yes, I saw the pictogram with the slash through a child standing in the cart. But the people who draw those pictures have apparently never had a 2-year-old who wanted to stand in the cart. That’s not even the point of the story, so you can stop wagging your finger and read on.
Squirts’ mommy is hunting down a gift in another part of the store while we hit the toy aisle. As Squirts looks in awe and imagines what a life with this many toys would be like, I turn to the wall of Yu-Gi-Oh games we’ve come to pick up. While I try to decipher exactly what a Yu-Gi-Oh is, Squirts rattles on behind me about some toy he needs to take home.
