Echoes

By Jane Thornton 

I reached up to hug my son today. Not down. Up. Then I watched as this young man threw his backpack in the trunk, climbed into the passenger seat, and, with a final wave, joined his friends on the trek back to college. The holiday was over.

So I traipsed back inside and decided to wallow in memories. I pulled out my “Funny Sayings” book where I had recorded various tidbits of our kids’ childish vagaries. Several struck a common chord.

Imagine a sturdy, blond, four-year-old boy kneeling beside his two-year-old sister. A game board and pieces littered the carpet between them. I was in the kitchen with an ear cocked for trouble. Matthew’s pedantic tones reached through the open doorway.
“Merry, here’s how you play this game . . . Merry, you can play the way you’re supposed to, or you can just not play. Those are your choices. Now, what do you want to do? Do you want to play the way you’re supposed to or not play?”

Hmmm. Where did that turn of phrase come from?

Another day, Matt slumped at the porcelain kitchen table. In front of him sat a plate with a helping of cooling casserole. I stood by the sink, rinsing empty dinner plates. Matthew had not yet taken his “no-thank-you bite.”

His feet swung and thumped the chair leg. “God told me I don’t have to.”

I snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“I read it in my Bible this morning.” He spread his open left palm before him and stabbed his pointer finger at it to emphasize each word. “IF YOU DON’T TAKE YOUR NO THANK YOU BITE, YOU CAN STILL GET UP.”

At least he claimed a compelling authority—even if he was twisting it for his purposes.

A few months earlier, he squirmed in a chair against the kitchen wall. “You know what God says?”

I looked up from my chore. This should be interesting. “What?”

“God said to let me out of timeout now.”

A discussion of the reasons for his punishment ensued. I refused to give him early release from his sentence.

His little arms crossed a puffed out chest and with four-year-old grammar admonished, “You’re not being please to God.”

I was glad he was learning a worthwhile goal although he used it for a bit of guilt manipulation.

Early one morning when his sister, Meredith, was three and a half, she snuggled between her dad and me. I ruffled her light brown curls. She burrowed closer. “What does the devil not want us to do?”

My hand froze. “What?”

“You know what the devil doesn’t want us to do right now?” She paused, and I shook my head. “Get up.” Her little lips pursed. “God does. I’m gonna do what God wants.” She popped up in bed and crawled over me to reach the edge.

Wow. Do I get some credit for teaching her that?

Through the years, so many of the quirky gems echoed the personalities surrounding our children. Most good, some not so much. This trend doesn’t end in childhood.

Sixteen-year-old Meredith and I shopped at the local hobby shop to find Christmas ornaments for her teachers. Trying to find a good selection, we bowed to the inevitable tide and sought to beat the rush by purchasing early in November.

I whipped out my cell to play a prank on Matt—miles away in college. He had always resisted my demands to purchase these annual tokens of appreciation. He had refuted my claim that as a teacher I knew they were treasured. He argued with my assertion that as a human being I knew that any expression of thanks was valued.

So, I strove to keep the laughter out of my voice as I asked what kind of ornaments I should get for his professors. He jumped right over my joke to fuss at me. “Mom! What are you doing shopping for Christmas before Thanksgiving? I was just lecturing my roommate about that.” His horrified tones crackled over the weak signal.

Hoist by my own petard! I only pray that the more important lessons of life sank in just as well.

“These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your heart. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on our hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.” Deuteronomy 6:6-9 (NIV)

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