Flashlights

Riding shotgun on the commute last night was a half gallon of Breyers natural vanilla ice cream and two cold liters of Barq's root bear. #2 went a full week without wetting his bed, and the kids knew that there would be a celebration when I got home from work.

As I rounded the corner into the cul-de-sac, I saw the beams of two little flashlights moving around in the shrubs near the corner of the front yard. I slowed down, and the beams fixed on me momentarily, then after a bit of bouncing around, the beams scampered around the corner. My headlights caught the reflective strips on #3's galoshes as he followed his big brother to a better hiding spot.

I waited on the carport after turning off the car, until I heard whispers approaching in the dark. Then suddenly, but not unexpectedly, a pair of loud "Boos!" rang out, followed by lots of big, hardy giggles.

Bliss.

Today, my boss shared with me this article and said that the struggles he's facing right now with his only son are directly attributable to his having failed to follow its counsel. Tonight while I was at my desk well after "quitting time," he peeked his head into my office, held out the article and said, "Go home. I'm serious. I give you permission. Do it." I got out of there about 45 minutes later and missed taking #1 to salsa club.