Let me give you an example. We went to a friend's home for a First Communion party. They had a team handball game going on in the backyard, and both Matthew and Noah were entrenched in the battle. For those of you that don't know what team handball is, it is soccer...only, as the name suggests, you can use your hands.
I sat and watched for about five minutes and noticed two things. First, Noah had himself perched at the opposing team's goal waiting for a pass so he could score a goal. Second, Matthew was shooting... a lot. And he was not passing to his brother who was perched at the opposing team's goal waiting for a pass from his brother so that he could score a goal. That pass never came.
I gave the boys the two minute warning and Noah pleaded to let them continue to play until he scored. No problem. Having been the youngest of six, I recognize the need for the youngest to get his opportunity to shine. I gave Noah an assist by ordering that Matthew pass him the ball. Eventually, the stars aligned and Matthew passed to Noah, who managed to throw one into the back of the net. Game, set, match... at least for my sons.
I had the boys follow me into the house to say goodbye to our hosts and then head out to the car. As I buckled myself up, I noticed that we were one kid short... no Matthew. We waited... and waited... and waited. I went back into the house and could not find him anywhere. I went around back only to find, to my surprise, Matthew in the thick of the game with ball in hand running down field. I yelled his name and he looked up like a deer in headlights and without missing a beat said...
Hey, there you are. I was looking for you!
You were looking for me, huh? Did you think that I snuck back into the yard and hopped into the opposing team's goal.
No, I mean you got into a long conversation with someone, and I lost track of you so I lapped back around and they threw me the ball.
My long conversation consisted of... Thank you for having us, Good bye... It took four seconds.
No seriously, I really thought...
Please shut the hole that makes the noise because I am getting more and more irritated with every idiotic explanation of how you were looking for me in the middle of that game.
He continued to try to explain the unexplainable as if all of the sudden, I was going to be proud of his efforts to hunt me down like the two dogs and the cat in the movie, Homeward Bound.
I can't really lay all the blame on Matthew for this maneuver. Of course, as always, I lay part of the blame on Cheryl. That's correct, he learned from the best. In fact, this was not the first time during the weekend that I had to live through a permutation of this move.
The previous night, Cheryl and I went to our good friends' 25th anniversary party. A lovely affair held at a mutual friends' home. On the way, I was so exhausted that I pulled over to buy a soda, which was kind of a big deal because I stopped drinking soda about a year ago. I needed some caffeine.
After purchasing the soda, I felt so guilty about the prospect of drinking the soda that I just used it, unopened, as a cold compress and rolled it around my face and neck... much to my wife's amusement. Anyway, I was pretty tired.
After a few hours at the party, Cheryl was in the middle of a conversation that involved, of all things, me being a hot head. During a break in the conversation, I managed slip in a subtle hint... I am tired, let's go!
Okay, not so subtle.
No problem, she said, let me go say goodbye to our hosts.
Twenty-five minutes later, no Cheryl in sight, and I was stuck making small talk with the bride's mother. I saw our hosts in the living room, but no Cheryl. I extricated myself from my own conversation and went looking for my lovely, albeit chatty, bride. There she was, standing in the kitchen with two ladies, who clearly were not our hosts, in the middle of a conversation. As I approached, Cheryl got that deer-in-the-headlights look, and without missing a beat said, Oh, are you ready to go?
Really, you don't remember that little face dance that I did with the Dr. Pepper on the drive down? YES, I AM READY TO GO!!
Gee, maybe I am a hothead.
I suppose there are worse things that my kids could learn from Cheryl... although nothing immediately comes to mind.
When I tell people that Matthew is now a teenager, I keep hearing about how much trouble Cheryl and I are in for. I could be wrong, but I don't see it. Like any kid, he has his moments... but overall, we could not have asked for a better kid.
Every Sunday, in church, I say a little prayer asking God to watch over each of my kids for that week and make them better sons and a better daughter, better siblings, better teammates, and better friends. I ask that He opens their minds and makes them better students and better Catholics. I told Cheryl, that is one of the many reasons I have to make it to Mass every week... I only have a seven day warranty on my prayer. Cheryl tells me that I can pray more than once a week. She could be correct, but who really knows.
Matthew is growing up to be a fine young man. He is polite, respectful and kind. We could not be any prouder of him.
Anyway, I think God answers my prayers. Perhaps, by only asking once a week, it gives Him more of an opportunity to answer just that one... ever think of that Saint Cheryl?
Happy birthday, buddy!
No comments:
Post a Comment