Tonight, someone let us know that Son #1 kissed a couple of girls on the cheek at church. Right in front of God and everybody. Neither one of us saw it, though.
We asked him about it when we got to our car tonight. He stopped, his eyes got big as saucers, and he contorted his face into an Urkel, “Did I do that?”
His only words on the subject were, “My bad, guys.”
Once again, we told him, “You can’t hug and kiss people besides Mommy and Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa.”
He’s also introduced himself to people giving his full name and the town he lives in. He does not take after me. I adopted the stranger-danger attitude as soon as I exited the womb. I mean, come on, I didn’t know these two people who were trying to get me to call them Mom and Dad.
We have some work to do. Today, we went out to eat after the morning service. As the lady escorted us to our table, Son #2 stopped at a booth and shook two people’s hands. I guess he thought we were still at church. I apologized and ushered him away.
We squeezed into the booth the size of a tuna can. Son #3 decided it was the perfect time to lift the roof off the joint with his amplified wailing.
I gently rocked the car seat with one hand and ate fried jumbo shrimp and egg rolls with the other, and smiled at the passersby stopping for a look at the precious one-month-old. Then I stopped rocking him and ran to the buffet for a second helping.
I scooped heaps of food onto the plate while conversing with the local Chinese food connoisseurs. A lady and I did the awkward two-step dance while trying to pass each other in the aisle. Then we laughed and made small talk.
What’s the point of this post? I didn’t know it would take three children to get me out of my comfort zone and feel comfortable talking to people.
But that’s what happens when your children holler across a crowded restaurant, “Dad! I gotta go poop!”
to the not-so-faint of heart,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 