SEVEN

In honor of Elijah's seventh birthday, I'll tell a story originally told by his teacher, Ms. D: 

She was having a rough day controlling the class.  The kids were bonkers and were causing that ever increasing tear in the universe that makes me go all screamy and yelly. 

Suddenly, Eli’s hand thrust up in the air.

“Eli, can this wait?”

“No, Ms. D. It can’t wait”

Exasperated, she said, “What, Eli?  What? What can’t wait?”

“Ms. D, you warm my heart.”

Who says that?  What boy in his right mind would say that in class?  In front of girls and bullies?

There is a note pinned to our fridge, written unprompted.  It goes (spelling mistakes added for cuteness):

“Dear (scribble) Mom. Thank for potting me into the world.  And for mareing the best dad. Your the best mom ever in my life!!!!!! Love your sweet son Elijah.”

This is a child who writes notes to Costa Rican housekeepers thanking them for the honor of staying in their hotel.  He helps crying children.  He asks strangers how they are feeling, and genuinely wants to know.

I know I spend a lot of time in this blog writing about his mischief and his little evil tricks and how he seems to take great delight in making me lose it.  But that’s just because those are funnier stories.  If I spent all year telling the tales of how sweet he was I’d lose all four of my readers.

I don’t know, man. He’s simply the best person I know.  That’s no joke.  Life hasn’t made him tough or sarcastic or arrogant or cynical. His soul is untarnished.

It’s my job to prevent that eventuality for as long as I can.  And it’s a job I don’t take lightly. 

Sorry this isn’t a funny post.  Sometimes I have to tell it like it is.  That Cute Little Bear post was funny, right?