One of the most rewarding things about raising children is the conversations you get to have with them. Some may be sad, some funny, and others priceless. Here is a conversation between my son, Zeke, and I on the way home today:
Zeke: What are we having for supper?
Me: Mommy is making broccoli and rice.
Zeke: (with the aid of younger brother, Eli) Uhhhhggggg! Whyyyyyyy? Ooohh? (Ad nauseam) Me: Well, it's what we are having. You can eat it, or not.
Zeke: I just don't understand why you and mommy are trying to CHANGE my life. (With upturned palms, he shook his hands dramatically.) I will not eat this way when I'm a grown up.
Me: (wryly smiling to myself and expecting this to be beyond good) Oh. Well then, what will you eat when you are a grown up?
Zeke: First of all, I am only going to have a home cooked meal twice a week. Maybe once. Probably once. We will just get food from places. Japanese food is always a good choice. I will pick up some fast food for my family if we don't have any other plans.
On Sunday nights I will order pizza. ORDER it, dad. I am not eating the home cooked kind from the oven. (His concept of home cooked pizza is DiGiorno's, by the way.) The kind YOU (emphasis his) make only has eight slices, and we have six people in our family. The kind you order has more pieces than that. I will get some bread sticks with garlic and maybe a two liter. Probably a two liter.
Then we can just go out to eat sometimes. It's just that I don't like the word "healthy." (The dramatic hand shaking returns.) And I don't know why you and mommy are feeding us this. My plan for right now, when I'm a kid, is to start bringing a bigger lunch so I can get full before supper. I'll call it "Bigger Lunch."
Me: (I think to myself, "What can you say to a tirade like that?")
No, this isn't going to be about a new year's resolution to lose weight. Although I did manage to put on about five pounds since Thanksgiving, so that's probably not a bad idea. This is about a different kind of guilt- parental guilt.
Each time my family steps foot into the Golden Arches, I can't help but feel a twinge of remorse. We have gotten into the nasty habit of allowing McDonald's to be our meal. I say allow, because it is not always the plan to go there. Eating out was kind of a thing when I was growing up. It was a semi- special event that we often planned on. We would all load up, go somewhere, and sit down to a decent meal.
Now, eating out is a by-product of a a busy life. Fast food happens when we are running late picking up the kids from day care, or have somewhere to go in the evening. The kids sometimes get three Happy Meals a week during our busiest times. Those things can't be that good for you. In addition to all the unhealthiness, I guess that a Happy Meal, for me, is a symbol for a hectic life. It represents the fact that it is hard to slow down and make time for certain things- important things like a family meal. It is hard to be a stop and smell the roses kind of guy in a go and weed the flower bed kind of world.
This is an excellent short film from the good folks over at Lifechurch.tv It is 19 minutes long, but very much worth the watch. Grab a snack and remember why we celebrate this special day.
You know how some stuff just sticks with you? Well, I remember driving in the car with my family one time. We were just cruising through a neighborhood. I must have been around ten or so. We were just going somewhere and we saw a man out cutting his grass. My brother got all excited and said "Look at that guy lawning his mow!" We all got a good laugh. Of course my brother had on his "Why Be Normal" hat at the time, so it all kind of fit.
I had high school summer adventures mowing lawns with my good buddy, Kevin. I also mowed the university grass in college as part of the maintenance crew, including a place called the coliseum. Those were character building times in my life. And that's all I'm going to say about that. I guess I have a weirdness about becoming a lawn guy. You know the type- the mow mid-week to keep the grass looking good guys. I'm referring to guys that talk about cutting their grass in in terms quarter inches. The guys who mow, then weed eat, then edge the sidewalks, then get the blower. These are the kind of guys that actually talk to other guys (usually other lawn guys) about their lawn.
If I had it my way, I'd be the opposite of a lawn guy. I want to be a dirt guy. I want a whole yard full of dirt. I want to get up every Saturday and go rake my dirt. One tool. One job. Neighbors would say "Hey Stortz, how's your dirt lookin'?" I'd say "Great. I think it's doing real well this season." I'd say that because it's dirt. How could it not be doing well? Nice and simple. I've got better things to do than worry about how my lawn is doing.
I've said in a previous post that my lawn was more "Malcolm in the Middle" than "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous." I'm pretty okay with that. And if my new HOA doesn't like it, I'll have a big pile of dirt they can help me rake.
I ran across this video over at Ed Young's Blog. Wow. Can you say convicted? I think my #@#$ and %$%& come out more in anger than in an attempt to be hip and relevant, though. This is definitely something to think about and pray about.
