October 14 – “Remembering dirt”

We made it to San Antonio and to Caleb’s baseball game.  Now that was some great fun.  I don’t know what was more entertaining – watching three-year-olds “play baseball” or watching their coaches (read here, Josh and Christi) do everything they could to keep the little ones focused.

I think we had a little bit of everything in that game.  One fellow refused to leave his Mommy before the game even started.  He was wailing for some reason, and had latched onto her with such force that she had no choice but to walk away with him.  I think the turmoil had something to do with his “uniform,” a t-shirt.  Why do I say that?  Because he returned to the game by the time it was his turn to bat, but he was now in civilian clothes.  Maybe it didn’t fit just right.  Maybe he didn’t like his number.  Maybe he was afraid aliens would kidnap him and force him to play baseball on their planet.  I don’t know.  But he made it back. 

For the team at bat, the goal was to hit the ball off the tee and run to first base.  That’s all.  See, everybody on the team gets to bat every inning, moving along one base at a time as the next batter hits.  Then the last hitter gets to run around all the bases, like he has hit a home run.  It’s Christi’s responsibility to see that over the course of the season every child gets a chance to be that last batter, that home run hitter. 

For the team in the field, at least from Coach Josh’s perspective, the idea is to pick up the batted ball and run with it over to first base.  I guess throwing it is a bit much to ask at this point in their young careers. 

All that being said, my favorite play of the game, other than anything Caleb did, of course, and not counting assistant coach Zakary’s  foray onto the field to take his little brother’s hand and personally escort him to the proper positioning, came when  our guys were in the field.  They had done a pretty good job of playing – to borrow terminology from soccer – bunch ball.  Any time the ball was hit, a bunch of them would race over to get it.  First one to grab it earned the right to run with it over to first base.  Or, as happened a time or two, to run over to Mom and Dad (the stands were out near left field) and show them up close and personal that “I got it, I got it.”  This one time, though, the batter hit the ball and instead of running toward first, he took a slight detour.  No, it wasn’t to his mommy (which happened), or even to the bathroom (which also happened).  This little guy simply followed the ball.  He was the first one to it, to his credit, so he calmly scooped it up and carried it with him over to first base.  Oh, and I’m sure the field groundskeepers appreciate the fact that these little guys were very concerned about the field’s grooming.  Every chance they got, they squatted down and carefully manicured the dirt around them.  Sometimes they even felt obligated to smooth it out by laying out flat and rolling around in it.  No apparent reason other than it looked like a fun thing to do. 

I must admit I was a little bit jealous of the little guys.  Sure looked like fun.  Brought back some fond memories.  Some of the best times I have ever had happened in the dirt. 

Psalms 34:5 says, “Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.”

Father, thanks for the memories.  And thank you that Caleb (and his Mom and Dad) are having a chance to make some as well.  Amen.

October 13 – “Secret identity revealed”

“Knock, knock”

“Who’s there?”
“Abana”
“Abana, who?”
“Abana Fit”

And so went the entertainment during my trip to take Caleb to the bathroom last night.  We were at a Mexican restaurant somewhere near Josh and Christi’s house here in San Antonio.  The food was pretty good, by the way.  I had beef quesadillas, Chris had tamales, Josh and Christi split some fajitas, and Zak had chicken strips and French fries.  Caleb just munched on some rice and soft tortillas.  Check it out next time you are in northwest San Antonio.  I think the name was whatever the Spanish word for Roadrunner is.  There were images of roadrunners everywhere.  Chiseled in a big rock outside on the patio.  Printed on the menus.  Painted on the floor.  They even had a huge roadrunner carved out of a tree in the lobby.  Big enough for the boys to crawl up on and ride like a horse.  Yee hah, right?  Great playground outside for the kids to play as well.  Apparently because I was holding his hand as we left, I got the honor of escorting Caleb for that final potty break that every self-respecting three year old boy (and 59 year old geezer, for that matter) needs before the long car ride home from … anywhere.  I didn’t realize, though, that he had such an incredible repertoire in his comedy routine.  That wasn’t by any means the only knock, knock joke he told.  They came non-stop from the time we headed away from the family.  It was just the only one I got.  Sometimes it’s just hard for me to keep up when I’m in the presence of such natural brilliance.  I did much better when he switched from his joke inventory to the gibberish language we had begun communicating in through texting back earlier in the morning before we arrived.  Zak was involved in some of that interchange as well.  Here’s a few quotes from that interaction:

“Zak id g’s heh”

“We are almost to Sea World.”

“RFID HFCs the you!”

“Can’t wait to see you too!”

“Get gnu pop”

“How about deer soda instead?”

“Cwe Vicng dad pop Thud hb gvcvbvvggvvg”

“Wait a minute!  Who is this really? How do you know so much about me?”

“Gdfxxccgghhgg f KGB!”

“KGB!  Oh no! You’re a spy! I knew it.”

“B Ccvvvxtfvghgbhhnd”

“Uh … Jgfdvnf vdghf.  Hcfdxvjg.  We are very close”

“KGB dad?”

“Yes, he is a spy, too.  We all are.  Look outside.”

And so was our arrival announced.  And our secret identity revealed.  But it was worth it.  The boys were happy and the whole experience has certainly been Abanafit to Chris and me as well.

Ephesians 4:29 says, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

Father, help me to always be a benefit to my family.  Amen.

October 12 – “Who needs DisneyWorld?”

I got to meet Roscoe P. GuineaPig the other day.  He is Cailyn’s new friend.  Well, I guess more accurately, he is Moe’s new friend (Moe is their original guinea pig), since they have to live together in much closer proximity.  When I was over there the other day Cailyn was very excited to make the introductions and then to take the opportunity to give him free rides around the house.  He rode the Pink Basket Swoop and the Bare Hands Grasp, but by far his favorite, I am sure, was the Rolling Backpack Mystery Tour.  It was a veritable Wonderland of Fun for Cailyn.  Not so sure about little Roscoe.  It might have been closer to a Nightmare on the Home Front for him.  Hey, who needs Disneyworld when you have Cailyn’s Planet?

During one of the excursions through the premises, Cailyn told me about a friend she has named Sarah.  Seems that Sarah has a possum (I know, it should be “an opossum”) that she puts on a leash and takes for a walk.  I told Chris about it, and she said she used to have a baby O-possom when she was a kid.  It would curl its tail around her finger and hang there. Now that’s some excitement.  Wonder how her O-possum would do in Cailyn’s  personal amusement park?  I don’t know.  I was raised in Galveston.  And I played baseball.  We always had a dog, and we even had a cat, although that seems kind of backwards.  It was more that the cat lived rent-free on or near our property whenever it wasn’t chasing neighborhood dogs or getting into fights with cats bigger than it was.  The cat was crazy.  It was named Bush, after a famous line in some science fiction movie where the character notices plant life for the first time on an arid planet and cries out, “Bush.”  My brothers now claim it was named after the beer, Busch.  But back to the rodents.  I didn’t have time for that sort of thing.  Besides, O-possums and guinea pigs were just high class names for rats as far as I was concerned. 

We are headed to San Antonio for a quick trip today.  Coming back tomorrow evening.  It’s our only chance to see Caleb play T-ball in his first season.  Rookie of the year, I’m certain.

Psalms 34:4 says, “I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.”

Father, help me remember to turn to you first when those fears of all shapes and sizes try to creep in.  Amen.

October 11 – “Out of the mouths of babes”

There have been a few interesting posts to other people’s Facebook pages the last week or so.  For example, last week my daughter-in-law Christina included this priceless gem about her youngest (for the time being until the Lil Roscoe in the oven gets here), Josiah:

Josiah: "I have a big, big donut belly. (pause, then looking at Kel) Just like Daddy!"

Now that’s some funny stuff.  It certainly made the rounds among our family and Christina’s, and I’m sure Kel was delighted to host the myriad of encouraging thoughts flung his way by admirers near and far. 

But then the other day another post went up.  This one was from April, Cailyn’s Mom.  Now, I’m all about sharing wonderful words of insight, especially from the mouths of babes, for they often have the unbridled courage - or rather, blissfully-ignorant-of-artificially-imposed-social-etiquette, total and complete naïveté – to say whatever enters their little minds with absolutely no regard for consequences.  Sometimes, however, the words of the young ones can reveal previously protected, deep, dark secrets.  Other times those words bring out into the open those unspoken elephants in the room.  Often, however, they just call ‘em like they see ‘em.  And of course there are occasions when unbridled creativity rears its adventuresome head, and the words of the child reflect a wonderful world of make-believe and fantasy so far beyond the present realm of experience as to be virtually unrecognizable as reality.  And that is the territory from which I am certain came the utterance from Cailyn’s mouth in her mother’s presence.  For April’s post was:

Cailyn: "My toy has long arms and a real big tummy!! A big tummy like DadDad!"

Pure fiction, of course.  But the question does arise … Have those two been talking?  And … how old are they, anyway?

Psalms 34:2-3 says, “My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.  Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together.”

Father, thank you for my grandkids.  Do I say that enough?  Amen.

October 10 – “Back East”

We took advantage of a pizza promotion yesterday.  For some strange reason I got an email from Papa John’s Pizza.  Pretty strange in and of itself.  I suppose it’s because I’m on their mailing list for when we order online.  This particular promotion was happening because the Houston Texans won their football game the night before.  Texans.  That’s the Cowboys of the south, right?  My question was, did they offer the promotion in New York, too?  The Texans beat the Jets, so it would be kind of rude.  Quite funny, too. 

That was the second pizza promotion I have received from them.  The first one also came by email sometime last month, and they have followed up on it at least three times since then.  Seems that they have decided to give away two million pizzas and I was on their list.  I have until October 14^th to get that one ordered.  I actually tried to order both of them at once since it has to be done online.  We planned to put them in the freezer for future consumption.  I punched in all my choices on the first one just fine, but it kicked me out of the system when I tried to add the second.  Only one special offer at a time.  Well, pardon me.  I reverted back to the half price one since it was only good yesterday.  Got everything punched in, and yet another message screen popped up.  The half price offer made the total price of the pizza $8.65.  They add $2.25 for a delivery fee to bring the total up to $10.90.  But apparently the fee doesn’t count toward a mysterious provision in their delivery system.  You have to order at least $10 worth of stuff before they will deliver.  No delivery available.  So I had to drive clear past 61^st street to pick it up.  Actually the store is located right on the east side of 61^st street, but the whole problem is having to go anywhere east of that street.  It’s like a huge barrier that divides the island, a massive river of traffic requiring an incredible expenditure of energy to get to the other side.  It’s been that way since I was a kid growing up here.  Feels even worse now.  But I was determined to make the sacrifice to feed my family.  So pick it up I did.  The good thing was I didn’t have to pay the delivery fee, so it only cost $8.65.  Not bad for a pizza.  I’ll order the other free one today or tomorrow I guess.  Don’t want to miss out on another trip “back East.”

Psalms 34:1 says, “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.”

Father, thank you for breaking down the only barrier that matters.  Amen.

October 9 – “Superhero costumes”

Cailyn went to the library with Nani yesterday.  That’s become one of their routines together every few weeks.  This time she brought home a book that was quite interesting.  Not so much for the subject matter as for the picture on the cover.  It was a superhero story, so don’t think there was anything wrong with her choice.  I mean, after all, most of what I learned between the ages of eight and fifteen or so I learned from either Superman comic books or the backs of baseball cards.  It’s just that on the way home she happened to notice something about this particular superhero – her clothes.  I’m not sure if it was the fact that Halloween is coming up or if she was just exhibiting some of that inborn knack for fashion that women have, but she was most definitely more interested in the garb than in the expression of that hero’s particular super powers.

Now when she showed the book to me later on, it quickly became apparent that she had the general superhero concept down without having a firm grasp on the specifics.  She pulled the book from her bag and announced that the lady on the cover was Batwoman.  Honest mistake, I’m sure.  After all, Batman gets all the best press nowadays.  It only stands to reason that his female counterpart should make a showing over at the library.  But it wasn’t Batwoman.  It was … Wonder Woman.

Now the issue Cailyn had with her on the way home from the library went something like this.

Cailyn: “Nani, this Batwoman doesn’t have any clothes on.”

Nani: “She has clothes on.”

Cailyn: “No, Nani.  She only has her panties on.”

Nani: “Oh.  Well, it just looks like that.  See, she’s wearing a kind of bathing suit.”

Cailyn: “Ooooh.”

Now, I wasn’t there, so I can’t make any judgments on that final comment, that ooooh.  But it doesn’t sound to me like she was all that convinced.  I have to give some kudos to Chris, though.  She pulled that one out of her hat.  I’m glad it was her and not me.  I shudder to think what my answer would have been. 

Psalms 33:22 says, “May your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in you.”

Father, keep that unfailing love coming.  Amen.

October 8 – “Singing in the Rain”

The church service went really well yesterday.  I didn’t feel too confident going in.  Sometimes it gets that way.  Like there is one more thing, something else that I should be doing.  I don’t know what it would have been this time, though.  The teaching was on Ezra’s sermon in the rain.  To kick it off I showed a film clip of Gene Kelly singing “Singing in the Rain.”  I guess that would have been a pretty good start, but I got all caught up in it.  When he started tap dancing all over the street I couldn’t help it.  I joined him.  Yep.  Started dancing around from the back of the church to the front.  I had an umbrella on the front pew, so I grabbed it and the two of us did a little family duet.  Don’t think too many people expected that one.  I think I got their attention, though.  We had some of the best discussion during that teaching, and even our community prayer time was great. 

After church Nathan and I went out to Santa Fe to pick up a table and chairs that some friends were giving us.  It reminds me a lot of the table we had before Hurricane Ike ruined it.  This one has two really big leaves, though, so we won’t need another table at Thanksgiving.  Now we have to figure out how to turn the old table into a serving credenza.  Chris has the picture of it all planned out in her mind.  I think I understand a glimmer of what she has in mind, but I’m not sure where to begin making it happen.  Short of turning it over to a carpenter friend, I guess I’ll just have to start taking it apart and try some things.  Stay tuned for that one.  May take a long time. 

Headed over now to pick up Cailyn.  I have to be there by 6 a.m.  Mommy and Daddy both have to work, so she’ll have to wake up to good ol’ DadDad in the house.  Hope she’s not too disappointed.

Psalms 33:21 says, “In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.”

Father, thank you for the encouragement of the people at church.  Return it to them ten-fold.  Amen.