This morning was like any other morning. The birds were singing. My three meticulously groomed children were waltzing through the house bantering over who loved the other the most. Shoes were tied, lunches were packed, and we were sitting down to a well-rounded breakfast.
Then I woke up.
It was a morning of the usual bustle. Crying, fighting, gnashing of teeth. And the kids were not any better. I was trying to remember to not burn the toast while packing lunches and shouting orders, sniffing breathes and armpits. The kids were up to their routine of mass-silliness. I don't understand it, but every morning from 6-6:50 my kids decide they can't be without each other, and spend countless amounts of precious minutes rolling on the floor like puppies. I digress.
This morning Parker was talking NONSTOP about important topics which I do not remember because I had my auto-pilot "uh-huhs" and "ya thinks." Suddenly the conversation shifts from Patrick (of Spongebob fame) not having a nose to this:
Parker: "Mom, I think I am ready to be crucified."
Me: ..................... "Huh? Well, what makes you think so?"
I just want to add that I did not give an "uh-huh." It was a gold-star, checked in kinda moment.
Parker: "Well, I mean, I love Jesus, and I know he loves me and died to save me, so I guess it is time for me to be crucified."
Me: "OH!!! OH, you mean BAPTIZED!"
Parker: "Yeah, you know when you go under water."
Now, I would like to say that at that moment a thousand things were going through my mind. Like how funny he and his vocabulary are. How proud of him I am and how prayers that have been prayed since before he was born are being answered.
And how I wished I hadn't corrected him. Because can you imagine the preachers face when he went to the front of the church for invitation this Sunday to ask to be crucified?