Pencil Crayons

I've noticed for some time now that my son likes to carry around a couple of handfuls of pencil crayons. It seemed a bit odd at first, but I didn't really think much about it. He's almost always had his hands filled with some object or other. It seems to fill a need for him.

The other day, at supper, he once again had crayons. All of a sudden he let out a cry, which startled my wife and I. We both looked to our son to see what was wrong. At that point he made a crashing noise and all the pencil crayons were pushed to the table. He asked the crayons, "Are you okay? Are you okay?"

At that point a light went on in my wife's and my heads. To our son these pencils were people. He was telling stories. They seemed to be played out mainly in his head, but they seem to be elaborate and vibrant.

In the following weeks we've had confirmation of this as we see him sway the pencils in a dance or a march. Snippets of dialog pop out including a few Veggie Tale references.

I'm usually not sure exactly what the story is, but I'd love to know. When he can talk clearly I bet he'll have interesting tales to tell.

Oops

So we had our son in church today. He was quite quiet and respectful. really on his best behavior.

His mom went up to the front for something. As she returned, I let our son go, thinking he'd meet his mom in the aisle a few feet from our pew. Oops.

He decided to head in the other direction towards the lobby. He'd made it about 20 feet before I caught up with him and brought him back. His mom immediately figured out that maybe our fidgety son needed a movement break, and she took him to our nearly sound-proof lobby where he could run in peace for a couple of minutes.

With the benefit of hindsight, her solution seems obvious. Happily our son has at least one smart parent.

The Rewards are Great

When you're a dad there are times you give up what you want to do because the family needs you. Sometimes you want to complain about that, and I know at least a few folks who will complain. Loudly.

Yet last week I came home early because I was sick. I quickly went to bed and slept for several hours. By the time I got up, my in-laws were there and my wife and both kids had come home.

As I got up and started to walk around and gather my wits, one person came upstairs. My daughter gave me a big hug, and then went downstairs again.

She had come upstairs just to give me a hello hug. I'll tell, while there's lots of things you give up for the sake of your family, hugs like that sure make it worthwhile.