Owned

We have a dinner tradition in our family. It’s a little hokey, and maybe when we have three teenagers they will roll their eyes and sigh about it, but for now, it works, and we like it. At dinner, we go around the table and everyone says what the best part of their day was. It’s simple. It’s enlightening. It’s entertaining. Often we also go around and share the worst part of our day. Sometimes we also go around and say what we are thankful for. Sometimes our responses are variations of the same answer. “The best part of my day was going for a long run in the Arboretum. The worst part of my day was the call with a funder that was so bad that I had to go out for a long run in the Arboretum to clear my head. I am thankful for good running shoes.” Sometimes I hold Jack up and speak for him in a low voice, all ventriloquist style, and say the best part of the day was burping or laying naked in the sunshine or chewing my hand, which never fails to get big belly laughs from Ella and pleas of “More! Talk like Jack some more!”

Today as I dropped Jay off at school (which is almost always the best part of my day) Jay asked me to pick him up after school. I told him I would try, but that I really had a lot of work to do and didn’t know whether I could take off from the office in time to pick him up. He nodded his head in understanding. Then he said, “If you did pick me up from school today, when we have dinner tonight and talk about the best part of our day, then I’ll say it was you picking me up after school.”

Stop. Let’s pause right there. That moment. That was the exact moment that I realized that I was OWNED by this boy. Because instantaneously I mentally began jettisoning items from my to-do list, rearranging my schedule, pushing up phone calls and weighing the option of simply quitting my full time job in order to be a professional to-school and home-from-school walker person. What would my business card look like? Would I have to craft a mission statement?

I beamed. I told him I would be there. I sighed, knowing that I wouldn’t get to all of the things on my to-do list. Eh. That’s what Mondays are for, right?