The Blessings

We were on our way to the in-laws in a neighboring state.

“Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house, we go…”

I was driving the vehicle. There’s not much else to do behind the wheel of a metal rectangle traveling at seventy-five miles per hour.

Son #2 pipes up, “Dada, what doin’?”

“Uh, driving, my son.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Um, Dada, what doin’?”

Sigh. We know how this goes. There is no end.

Then, Son #1 had the audacity to prop his leg against the outside of Son #2’s car seat. World War Three commenced. Son #2’s attention was no longer on me.

“No, Bubby!”

“What?” Son #1 asked.

“NO, BUBBY!” Son #2 seemed sincerely offended.

“Ow! Stop it!”

“NO! Aaaahhhh!”

After hearing this back and forth several times, we turned the lights on. “What’s going on, boys?”

Son #2 said his brother’s leg was on him. There was no evidence this had ever happened. From Son #1’s vantage point, this was impossible.

At some point, Son #3 decided he was left out, so he screamed and cried for an hour and a half. We made a pit stop in Joplin to see if he was hungry. He wasn’t. He just wanted to get out of the car seat. Since we didn’t want to be driving at 3:00 a.m., we put him back in the car seat and endured his wrath.

Thankfully, the screaming had a melatonin effect on the other two boys. They slept until we pulled into Tulsa.

At which point Son #2 said, “Dada, what doin’?”

Honestly, I’ve got so much to be thankful for. I’m counting my blessings.

I’ve made it to four so far.

to my blessings,
– Caleb