Tuesday, September 2, 2014

September 2 – “Calebisms”

We made it to Waco again yesterday with little fanfare.  And I have to say that since we have been here, we have been marvelously entertained by the engaging grin of Little Luke, the scientist-like accomplishments of Zakary in the field of owl poop dissection, the absolutely dominating physical prowess of Zakary over his brother in sumo bumper bopper competition (not to mention the never-say-die pluckiness of Caleb in those rivalries against insurmountable odds), and the always-amusing left-field lingo that we affectionately refer to as Calebisms. 

Caleb apparently ran across the bag with the old baseball cards that I purchased at one of the antique stores over the weekend.  Nothing like a conversation about all things aged with a five-year-old.  Caleb wanted to know how old I was and how old Nani was, which inevitably evolved into a time of wondering about death and dying.  He decided that I was good to last at least until I was around 89 years old.  Why 89?
Caleb: “That’s because I’ll be a teenager then.” 

Hmm.  Not sure about the math there, but 89 sounds like a good number.  I explained to him that I just wanted to live to be old enough to dance with Cailyn at her wedding.  He assured me that I would make that easily.  Christi pressed the issue just a bit:

Christi: “How old will Cailyn be when she gets married?”
Caleb: “38”
Yep.  Her Daddy will love that response.  But he wasn’t done with his future projections:

Caleb: “I want four children.  Two boys and two girls.  And I want a mansion with a swimming pool.”
Nice to have your life so well planned out.  We finally got back around to the source of the discussion in the first place, the discovery of the baseball cards, and why we weren’t going to open the box to see which cards were in there.  

Me: “When I die your Daddy and Uncle Nathan and Uncle Kel will have to fight over who gets to keep my baseball cards.”
Caleb: “Well, I want Uncle Nathan to call me when the fighting starts, and I’ll be the referee.  And my wife will tell where the fight will be.”
Mark your calendars for that one, Ladies and Gentlemen.  Referee Caleb and his wife, the venue specialist/event promoter present … the fight of the century. 

Now one thing you need to understand about Caleb is that he has become a rabid Baylor Bears fan since their arrival in Waco, much to the chagrin of some members of the family who happen to have graduated from new-to-football-competition Houston Baptist University.  And after watching Baylor’s systematic demolition of SMU on TV the other night, his super-fan status only strengthened.  HBU graduate Daddy did his best to explain that the HBU Huskies were just learning how to play football, so their team was not as good as the Baylor team.  Apparently, however, the opportunity that soon presented itself for a little bit of trash talking was just too much to let pass.  See, the family has made plans to get together for the HBU homecoming game.  On that auspicious occasion we will celebrate Luke’s first birthday with a tailgate party.  A concerned Mommy had a question:

Christi: “Caleb, will you cheer for the Huskies when we go to their game?”
Caleb: “No.  I’ll laugh at the Huskies.”
Ouch.

We ended the day with a trip to the Baylor student center.  They have a small bowling alley in the basement.  I did OK enough the first game.  (Nothing to get excited about – one fifty something.  I can’t remember the last time we went bowling).  But it was enough that Caleb told Josh he was “considering becoming a fan of DadDad.”  Of course that was just until my knee stopped cooperating during the second game and Christi had to take over my spot.  Sigh.  89 is looking a long ways off.

Psalms 37:25-26 says, “I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.  They are always generous and lend freely; their children will be blessed.”

Father, thank you for special family moments, whatever they may look like.  Amen.

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