Man, I Love That Kid

My son keeps amazing me. No, he's not perfect (he's got a long way to go on cleaning his room properly, for starters), but in the things that really count, he's becoming a young man I'm in awe of.

Two examples have jumped out at me recently.

The first was over Christmas break, when the family was visiting grandparents a good hour or so north. On Saturday night, my son and his grandpa went to a hockey game that was roughly halfway between our two homes.

While they were gone, we got a call about a sister-in-law in the ER who needed minor but immediate surgery at the hospital close to our house. Long story short, we spent time on the phone trying to find a place for their baby to go overnight and otherwise arrange for things at home.

We contacted my FIL at the game. Since they were only half an hour away, he and our son left the game early for the hospital to give support. We told them to stay at our house that night instead of facing icy roads to come back, since it would be well after midnight by the time everything at the hospital settled down. The surgery turned out fine, and afterward they crashed at our place.

The following day, Sunday, as I packed up the kids' stuff so we could head home, I wasn't sure whether my son had taken a certain Christmas gift with him to the hockey game or whether I should keep looking for it in Grandma's basement. I called our house, and my FIL answered.

"I'm pretty sure he brought it with him," he told me. When I asked to speak with my son to confirm, he said, "Oh, he's not here right now. He went to church."

My jaw hung slack. Um, he what?

Yep. On his own, without any family around, my son not only didn't sleep in, but figured it was still his duty to go to church. At 9 AM. So he did. I had neighbors a bit confused when they saw him passing the sacrament because they knew the rest of us were out of town.

What kind of kid does that?!

Second story:

We live in a cul de sac on a hill in a city that doesn't believe that cul de sacs need snow plows. Let's say that the past couple of weeks with tons of snow and ice have been interesting on our street.

As I drove in the other day on the way home from school, we noticed our neighbor's minivan spinning its wheels at the very top of the hill. A couple of kids and a neighbor lady were trying to help push, but it wasn't working.

My son nearly jumped out of the moving car to help. I had to yell at him to not get out yet or he'd kill himself. Plus, there's a strategy involved in getting up our driveway when there's lots of snow, and you cannot stop midway; you have to keep moving slow and steady if you don't want to get stuck.

He chomped at the bit until I reached the garage . . . and still nearly jumped out of the moving vehicle. He ran down the driveway to the stuck neighbor, calling, "Need some help?"

Ten minutes later, he came in the house, rosy-cheeked. The minivan was on its way, and he'd done his part.

I almost cried.

As much as I'd like to, I can't take credit for the way he's turning out. He arrived this way. He's ten kinds of awesome. Can't wait to see what kind of adult he'll make.

On second thought, I can wait. He became a teenager too fast for my liking. I'll be good if time slows down just a tad.

But he'll be an awesome man. I just know it.