The Boy

Being a writer, I jot down anecdotes about my son frequently. More often than not, God has used the boy, as I lovingly call him, to not only bring me laughter, but humble me, too. Over the course of almost nine years of life, Noah has been an instrument of the Creator of Joy and I am blessed.

Take the other day. I volunteer at Noah’s elementary as one of the parent helpers on the Wagon Wheel Press, the school’s newspaper. Noah is a photographer, but this semester each student has to be involved in writing a story also. Sheila, our fearless parent volunteer leader, asked me if I could teach a little lesson on writing.

“Sure. Absolutely.” I replied. I taught English and Drama for nineteen years. Teaching used to be my thing.

But it has been two and a half years since I have taught a group of kids. Nevertheless, I was up for the challenge.

Last Thursday I stood before 25ish kids and taught a lesson on asking questions, being curious in general, in order to write a story. I loved it! The joy of why I taught for all those years flooded me as I stood before my audience, getting them to laugh and participate and hopefully, learn.

The best part of teaching for me was performing in front of the kids. I loved taking them on a ride and making them laugh. Unfortunately, instruction is only a part of the profession. I wish I had been better at the other aspects.

But on Thursday I rocked. I was great! Every once in a while I would look over at Noah to see his reaction. To be honest, I was showing off a little bit for him. He had never seen me in this capacity. My boy sat, scarlet red, with a huge smile on his face. I took it he was proud.

So we get in the car to go home. I am all set to hear the gushing, the waterfall of complements from the back seat. I know that my boy is going to go on and on about how fabulous I was. In fact, I mentally write his script on the way to the car:

“Mom, I had no idea you were such a good teacher.”

“You were so funny. Everyone loved you!”

“I get to have you as a Mom. I GET to have you!”

“Mother, you changed my life. I have never been more proud!”

I am only using a tiny bit of hyperbole. I know, I know…

So we’re in the car and he doesn’t say anything. No big deal, he just needs a little prodding.

“That was fun today, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Once again I am reminded my boy is just like his father. Okay, I will get to the point.

“How was I, Noah?”

He laughs and then says, “Mom, you are so much more dramatic than I will ever be!” And he continues laughing.

That was it. His entire commentary.

Yep. Oh well. He is still my joy, as humbling as it is sometimes.