Hang On, I Need To Die First
As regular readers know, the Little Black Dress loves those “special days,” which really aren’t days. Her birthday is really a birth month; Christmas does start in July; and this past Mother’s Day pretty well covered the weekend.
We will forgo any mention of Obligatory Day.
Anyway, let’s continue. Deep in making a marinade sauce for the grilled lamb on the night’s menu, I was in a quandary. (Those wanting the recipe, also known as “How To Win The Heart of Your Own Little Black Dress,” just click here)
My hands were covered with said marinade, as well as the raw meat, and I needed some more spices. I needed some help. And so I did what I thought was a rather excellent way to get help. I said … “I need some help.”
Nothing.
So I tried again, a rather common practice in our household where increasing volumes somehow seem to get better responses.
“I’ll help … but I have to die first,” responded the youngest Son of Thunder.
Well, that gave me pause.
“Excuse me?”
“I have to die first i’m in the middle of this tank war and i’m in the red tank right here, see? see? see? and if i stop now then i die and i’m almost done and i’ve never beat this level and hang on just one more second and oh shoot i just got shot and where did he come from and arrhhgghh now i missed him and i only have one bullet left and where did that tank go and …”
“Never mind.”
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So I tried a little holler toward the other side of the house.
“I am trying to have a zen moment here. I have been trying to have a zen moment all day, but you and the Sons are not letting me and I will have my zen moment NOW.”
My rapier wit determined the Little Black Dress was trying to have a yoga workout. One does not – ever – disturb that. Otherwise the wrath of (insert really deadly outer space monster/war god name here) emerges.
Basically, that option is out and the youngest Son is still hanging on. So I do what I thought was a pretty smart move considering the various scenarios. I put the meat and marinade down, washed my hands and got my own spices. And thank you very much.
I then I had one of those moments.
Youngest is playing a war game and is that really appropriate? So now I’m dealing with all that guilt stuff and shouldn’t he be reading a nice book and the weather is gorgeous outside and am I really monitoring what he’s playing and what kind of example am I setting by letting him play some tank war game and …
He said he’d die for me.
I was so honored. So proud. Everything The Dress and I had tried to teach them about what really matters in life was taking hold. A slight tear formed as I thought of that scripture in John where it says “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends (or father in this case).”
Yeah, and then I woke up.