It's the suds I see as I pass our bathroom. Mustache-man looks up. "One more," he swishes and spits a glug of bubbles into the sink.
"Honey, are you washing your mouth out with soap?"
Nod. He's already sucking in another swig from a red cereal bowl. It's the frog one with big buggy eyes. He swishes another shot and vaguely aims at the sink. Spit.
"Is that because I said being naughty makes your heart dirty?"
He grabs a rumpled hand towel, grins. "Now my clean."
After scrubbing all the marker off his hands, greathearted one tries to make his heart clean.
4 comments:
No words - just a big smile. What a precious boy you have.
Sweet, sweet boy you have there Bethany. And already a sensitive conscience. I think in some ways that makes your job much easier and in others much harder. Have you ever read the story about Gilda Radner's pregnant dog that got run over by a lawnmower and had to have its back legs amputated? The dog learned to scoot along dragging its back end. When the puppies were born,they all learned to walk by dragging their hinnies just like the mom. When I read about that I had this fear shoot through me that I could totally and irrevocably damage my children just by being me. Fortunately, I found all three to be of this very Greek hard clay and pretty immune to my bad judgments, over reactions, and general bumblings and quirkiness. But it sounds like you might have some softer clay going on over there requiring a softer touch to make an impression, good or bad. Of course while it would have been a disaster for me, I can think of no mom better able to mold with a soft touch than you. And I mean that with all my heart. Now go give that boy a cookie from Aunty Pig Women. No, give him five.
Oh a man after God's own heart that boy. Looking for the way to righteousness. Teach him to lead.
My boy has a tender heart, too. His spontaneous hugs when he's happy and tears when I speak sharply remind me what a big responsibility motherhood is.
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