My Boys Are Becoming Men

So the deal I made with myself tonight was this: if I clean all three bathrooms and dust our bedroom (which hadn't been done since -- eeep! -- before Elias was born), I would sit down and finally begin reading "The Time Traveler's Wife," which I have now checked out of the library for the third time. I have completely worn out the kids (which is why I am cleaning the bathrooms at all) and the house is delightfully quiet. Of course, after the cleaning was accomplished, I wrapped up a few loose "to-do" ends and then poked my head into bedrooms to view the peacefully sleeping. And as I looked at Tucker's relaxed face I realized that I simply had to write down one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed from my boys before it was lost forever in the hustle and bustle of daily life.

As I was perusing the Exeter Football League's website in preparation for signing up the boys a few days ago, I happened to notice that games are played on both Saturday and Sunday. A little more digging and a few phone calls later, I learned that there are Sunday morning games and Sunday afternoon games. I am still waiting to hear back on which slot one of the boys would be in.  So I ran it by Scott, who looks at me with shock before he proceeds to say out loud what I've been thinking: "We can't do football if it means missing worship every week." Yeah. I know.

Yesterday we spent quite a lot of time in the van running hither and yon and it occurred to me that this might be a good setting to talk with both Dawson and Tucker at the same time. They are, after all, strapped in and quite the captive audience. I asked them to both sit in the front bench seat and I let them know about the possible problem on Sundays. I was prepared for anything but what happened.

Dawson: "So, they actually hold games during worship times? Why would they do that?"

me: "Well, buddy, not everyone worships on Sunday and I think they just work really hard to fit a lot into very short windows of time. You have to remember that most families have both parents working or only one parent."

Tucker: "Yeah - but that stinks that people couldn't worship. Or do people actually skip worship to go to games?"

me: "I'm sure they do, and perhaps if we had an evening worship option, we might have considered it. But, thankfully, we don't so it isn't an issue."

Dawson: "So, neither of us can play now?"

me: "Well, it would only affect one of you. I know how excited you both were to play this year and your dad and I feel really, really bad that we didn't check the game schedule before saying yes."

Dawson: "So, only one of us would be playing?"

me: "Yes."

Tucker: "Well, if we both can't play, then I don't want to play. That's just not very nice."

Dawson: "Yeah, me either. I don't want to be out there playing knowing Tucker couldn't. That's just wrong. I mean I was excited and all, but he's my brother."

me: "Really??"

Dawson: "Oh, yeah. I'm not playing if Tucker can't."

Tucker: "Yeah - me either. I can't make Dawson just sit around and watch me. It's just mean."

I literally couldn't say anything else because I was all girlie and stuff in the front seat. You know - choked up with pride and weepy over their absolute selflessness. Never in a million years would I have guessed their reaction would be completely and utterly the opposite of selfish. That it would be, well, manly.

Once I could talk, I went on to propose a compromise which would still enable them to play football. I gave them my word that I would take the time I would have spent carting them back and forth to practice to create a league for some intramural-style flag football and that I would use the registration money to purchase some real flags, not the cheap ones we use when camping. Again - their reactions were completely unexpected.

Dawson: "Cool! That would be so great to be able to play with families instead of just kids my own age!"

Tucker: "That's great, mom! I really hope we can't do league football now - your idea sounds way more fun! Would you play?"

me: "Sure, if that's what you want."

Tucker, to Dawson: "We'd better start working out. She's tough."

Which just goes to show that growth happens even when I'm convinced it won't, that all this crazy talk about priorities really did sink in, and I was right to hold my tears back. I wouldn't want to jeopardize my reputation before the big game.