Workin' With Daddy

Yesterday morning, the rhythm of the breakfast kitchen was fast-paced and upbeat.  With spoons clanking against bowls overflowing with cereal and buzzing conversation about wrestling camp, errands to be run and the number of wheat straw circles still to be baled, I knew that the day would not disappoint all of our ambitious spirits.  

As the older boys dashed out to feed their calves, one little fella snuck away and emerged from his room proudly announcing that he was dressed and ready to go to work with daddy.

Pitter-pat went my heart.  How could I say no?  Steve was already out at the shop dispatching the help, so I went through my usual litany of instructions: Be very careful walking over to the shop, don't climb in the tractors without dad's permission, listen to your father....etc., etc.  In the midst of my lecture, I was smitten by his cuteness and the beauty of his innocence.  

Sometimes we mommas just have those moments when as we gaze upon our babies time seems to stand still as we are captivated by the precious beauty of their sweet souls. Those are the moments that we want to savor, to hold on to and to lock away in our memory like priceless treasures to be unwrapped and admired when our kiddos are grown and moved away.

Then, something usually happens to snap us out of the moment...something like this....

And, then it's back to reality. The glittery bubble of harp-serenading angels that were just surrounding me bursts and I remember that I'm the mother of 5 boys.  5. Boys will always do gross things. Things girls will never like.  Or understand.  Or be able to fix, no matter how much we complain or bribe or reason or cry.  Sigh.

Then, we went about our usual good-bye routine.  He looks over his shoulder and waves every few yards saying, "Bye mom!"  To which I reply, "I love you, Henry!"

Then, I heard him shout, "I'm coming, daddy! I'm comin'!"  Pitter - Patter.