Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Oh by the way...

Pax had us all cracking up on the way to the bus stop.  He ran up to each of us and said, "You want to have a staring contest with me?"

Last week, I'd had an especially trying day with Pax.  He refused to take a nap, and yet he was tired, cranky, and hard to coax into doing - or not doing - pretty much anything.  We were nearing the dinner hour when Jeff called to say he was on his way home.  Pax was helping me brown the meat in the pan, and standing very close to me as I talked to Jeff on the phone.  I said to Jeff,
"Pax has been very D-I-F-F-I-C-U-L-T today..."
Pax looked up at me and grinned.  "That spells crabby, right?" 
Later in the week, I took Pax to the playground.  Pax started to climb a large blue hovering structure and he said to me, "Mom, you want to race me?"
Me:  "No, I don't really want to race you..." I trailed off, gamely trying to find a suitable reason.
Pax:  "Oh, don't worry. It's a race where we can BOTH win."

I chuckled at that one, my little sprite who seemed to sense how much I value cooperation over competition.... or perhaps because of his confidence that he could beat me and wanted to spare my feelings...

Another mom was there with her son, who looked to be about Pax's size and age.  This boy ran over to me at once to tell me that the slide he'd just gone on was really fast.  He ran off.  A little while later, he ran up to me again to tell me that he was pretending that he was aboard a pirate ship.  He ran off again.  The third time he ran up to me he said, out of breath and somewhat urgently,
"Oh by the way, this morning I dipped my finger in holy water and blessed myself."  He made the sign of the cross on his forehead to show how he'd blessed himself.

I grinned at him and said, "Good for you, Buddy."  He turned and danced away. His mother, overhearing him, didn't say a word.  She didn't seem uncomfortable; she didn't seem proud.  She didn't laugh, or try to share a Look with me.  She let the moment stand as we both seemed to absorb the gift he'd just given to me, the one where he felt it was too crucial not to share a beautiful moment of his day with me, a stranger.  It became the most beautiful moment of my day. 

Later, he went on to share more with me.  He asked me about Pax:  "Is he interested in doing dress up?"  "Yes, he is interested in dress up." I replied.  "Oh.  So am I.  It's like every day, I literally open my dress up box and think, what am I going to be today?"
(his pronunciation of literally - jiterjally - quite slayed me).

And then, of course, this little old soul couldn't resist sharing a knock knock joke with me.

"Knock knock," he said.
     "Who's there?" I replied.
     "Banana who?"
"Banana hammock." 

I laughed before I could stop myself.  He looked at me and said, "Yeah, it's a good one!  My older brother taught me that one!"  ...and skipped away, quite merrily.

 So many gifts from that little guy at the playground:  the gift of faith sharing.  The gift of imagining.  The gift of laughter.

And then there's this gift:

No comments: