Little Hakims, Growing in Wisdom, Stature, and Favor with God and with Man

Our home is constructed a little oddly. For some reason, the designer thought it would be a wonderful idea if the heat and smells and other business of the kitchen would overflow immediately into the living room.

No matter how we arrange the living room, this creates a problem for us, primarily because something has to go against what is basically the kitchen counter from the backside, and no matter what that something is, it instantly becomes a staircase by which Kes and Emmet are free to ascend onto the kitchen counter.

Currently the couch is over there, and our experience with it has been no different than with the loveseat, the chair, the toys, or anything else that we've tried in that position. Up they scramble with skill that would turn Sir Edmund Hilary green, and for them, the summit is something that causes Mount Everest to pale in comparison.

If the government is going to make a childproofing video any time soon, they would do well to use our kitchen counter as an example of a place that a child should not be able to reach. For these two toddlers, however, it's an amusement park. Thankfully, they've never successfully tried any of it out, but there it lies with its promised reward of glorious fun which must be completely amazing, because mom and dad seem to want it all for themselves.

Well, today, Sir Emmet Elijah was making his ascent, to which I of course responded with a stern "No." Apparently, however, I missed the memo that Kes now has veto power in this house, because in her best immitation of Heather's (my wife) voice, she chimed in on the matter...

"It's fine with me."

Ok, so I'm not learning the deep truths of life from my children one hundred sixty-eight hours per week. Sometimes they are satisfied to bring a smile to my lips, even if the roaring belly-laugh must stay hidden beneath the parental poker face.

If you have children, you know what I'm talking about. It's that smile that cracks through to the surface when you're trying to teach your one year old boy not to climb up on the antique coffee table, and he leans on it ever so slightly with that silly little grin on his face.

He's being defiant, testing the limits, and you want your own expression to convey that even if he doesn't cross over the limit, testing it is unacceptable. But oh that grin! It's an 11 on the 1-10 cuteness scale, and you can't resist. As much as you tried to steel your face, the chorus of laughter in your diaphragm still broke through with that teeny little wry smile.

Well, Emmet afforded me one of those smiles yesterday. No, I wasn't disciplining or training him. We were at the pediatrician's office for his one-year immunizations, and after an ordeal at the nurses station (the deep prick to draw the blood was fine; the five minutes of wringing his finger to extract a substantial amount... not so much), and a pleasant interview with the doctor, the nurse had come and jammed a series (3) of long metal slivers into his thigh, pausing after each jab to fill the hole with fluid, just to make sure it burned enough to really hurt.

As you might imagine, Emmet was NOT pleased, but he's a brave little boy, and by God's grace, he feels completely secure in the arms of his daddy, and it was literally five seconds after I picked him up that the crying subsided, and my courageous little man was burying his face in my chest to wipe away the tears.

As the nurse was packing up to leave the room, I said "bye," and Emmet had recovered sufficiently to catch his cue. Out came the arm with the hand folding and unfolding itself in a supine position, accompanied with that faint, familiar "buh-bah... buh-bah... buh-bah." As soon as he turned his head to see to whom we were saying good-bye, however, the waving and greeting stopped. His stiff lower lip curled up to seal his mouth shut, lest he should say another kind word, and the flapping hand drew into a tight fist, held closely against his chest. If he had the vocabulary, there is little doubt that we would have heard him utter, "I only say 'bye' to nice people."

Yes, it was an inappropriate response to the lady who was helping to protect him from nasty diseases that have debilitated and killed so many people for so many years. But it was also extremely cute and frightfully funny. And yes, the chorus of laughter that was welling up within me won the day. Out came the

little

wry

smile

;-)

Heather and I packed the kids and their uncle Victor (my 'little' brother-26) into our green, 2002 Kia Sedona a couple weeks ago and set forth for Destin, FL.

If I really want to be honest with myself, my ideal vacation is not to encounter high culture, museums, points of academic or educational interest, or even thrill or entertainment attractions. All I really want to do on a vacation is sleep and, maybe, swim a little bit before turning over to sleep on my other side.

So how was it that I found myself entering the Gulfarium and indebting myself to CitiBank at the rate of $17.50 per adult head for several hours of watching sea lions recycle plastic bottles and dolphins catch footballs? It was even worse when an elderly male dolphin named Panama did his flip a little too close to the edge of the tank, dropping a deluge on that foolish family (us) that was naive enough to sit so close to the front. Kes's eyes had gotten enough into them to set off the warning siren, and as I sat on the saltwater-soaked bench and tried to comfort my two-year-old tempest, I reminded myself that we were here so that I could show my young children some of the wonders of the world.

Like most Mississippi storms, that one ended nearly as quickly as it had begun, and a few hours later, Kes, Emmet, Heather, Victor, and I were sitting on the deck of the Southern Star on a dolphin cruise out into the Gulf of Mexico. This time there was no screaming. She loved everything from the flock of seaguls that followed us around in search of Frito Lay's brand corn ships to the tiny little fins that every so often would pierce the emerald landscape, instigating cries of "dolphin! dolphin!" At one point, the horizon caught fire, reminding us that it was time to head back for the bay, and as we chased the wisps of color that the sun had left behind to remind us of that glorious sunset, i watched her eyes as she lay her head on her mother's lap, tired but full of wonder.

You see, my dear reader, I originally thought that I was taking my children to these places so that they could watch wonders--dolphins, sea lions, ocean, sunsets. But now I think that was a lie. I really took them to those places to watch them watching. For as breath taking as the sunset on the ocean is, and as marvelous as a dolphin learning to play wide receiver might be, there are two wonders that I don't have to pay admission or purchase passage on a yacht to see. Their names are Kessedi and Emmet, and they are true wonders of the world.