|Zachary this morning|
I lay my hands upon them each morning. Together we petition for protection, good choices, a mind prepared for learning and a heart prepared for accepting. I let them hear my voice and feel my touch, hoping somehow it will speak to their young spirits.
We say amen and then I say the same affirmations just before the bus or the carpool pickup arrives. They know them so well that it probably feels a bit like Groundhog Day--which is alright with me. That said, this morning with Zachary was just a little different.
6:48 a.m. this morning
"Who are you?" I started.
I secured his hood and skull cap onto his head.
Zachary replied like clockwork, "I'm the head and not the tail."
His coat zipper stuck for a bit and I helped him get it going.
I went on without missing a beat. "Exactly. And what else?"
I checked his backpack to make sure he had his folder and courier, spinning him around like a little top.
"I'm a leader and not a follower."
Now he was facing me. He perched his chin forward so that I could pick something from the corner of his eyes that we'd missed.
"That's right. And what else, son?"
We pulled on the bottom straps to tighten them around his shoulders. He grabbed each one with both hands to make sure they were secure and gave them a firm tug. Then he looked up at me and smiled like always.
"I'm a child of God and I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
Next, I started into the rest of my every morning-last minute diatribe that probably comes out more like one of those announcers telling the side effects at the end of those pharmaceutical commercials than anything else. "Make good choices, okay? Follow your heart, alright? And always choose kindness. Always, okay?"
"I know, Mom. I will, Mom."
Just then the bus pulled up with its blinking red lights.
"Okay, buddy. Make it an awesome day."
He started to light out toward the bus like always but stopped short to say one more thing.
"What's that, bud?"
"You know what else I am?"
I felt my heart beginning to swell in anticipation of whatever sweet little punctuation my boy would have on our exchange before starting his day--especially since he'd started it out by calling me "mama." I pulled my jacket closed to hide the pajama shirt I was wearing underneath and cocked my head sideways.
"What's that, sweet boy?"
"I'M A SEAHAWKS FAN! OH YEAAAAAAH, BABY!!! WAAAAHOOOOO!!!! LET'S GET IT, BABY!!!!"
And with that, he leaped onto the school bus, gave the bus driver a fist pump (I kid you not) and then disappeared down the aisle with his gigantic backpack bouncing behind him.
Well. Yeah. I guess he's that, too.
Happy Friday. Let's hear it for those 'Hawks and my little 12th man.