Sweet Innocence

Remember Chris Farley, the corpulent Saturday Night Live comic? One of the skits he was in always cracked me up. He would interview famous stars and ask the same basic question over and over. For example, his interview with Paul McCartney went something like this:

Chris: Do you remember Hey Jude?

Paul: Well, yes I do.

Christ: That was great.

Paul: Thank you.

Pause.

Chris: Do you remember the time you did that album and on the cover you were walking across Abbey Road and you were barefoot?

Paul: (tentatively) Yes.

Chris: Remember how people thought you were dead?

Paul: Yes.

Chris: That was awesome!

Chris Farley portrayed this kind of innocence that was touching and funny at the same time. The kind of wide eyed wonder we see in children. I see it in Noah all the time.

Today marks day three of Noah’s sinus infection. It’s actually called an adenoidal viral infection. He seems better but not totally well. In our time together, we have just kind of lazed around like sleepy cats. Mostly reading, watching TV and DVDs.

I’ve had plenty of time to watch this sandy haired, lanky limbed, chocolate brown-eyed boy of mine. He is a wonder. After nine years, I am still in awe of this intricate, complex and wild little gift of mine. God’s lessons through the boy are consistent, sometimes cutting through me like a knife, sometimes massaging my heart ‘til it hurts.

I am ready for him to be well. I want him to feel better and I want him to go back to school. Summer is done!

But since he has to be at home, I am thankful for the moments I get to share with him. The Chris Farley ones, where his heart shows his age and his goofiness makes me laugh.

Like yesterday. We were watching Family Feud. Noah likes this show. The question was “If women could choose one body part to be perfect, what body part would it be?”

Noah piped up, competitive as always.

“I know the answer to this one.”

“What is it?”

“Lungs, of course. So you can breathe.”

I chuckled to myself.

When the answers came up like breasts and bottom, he looked at me, tilting his head like a confused puppy dog.

The number one answer was stomach.

When he looked at me again with a quizzical expression I said, “Noah, women are vain. They care about how they look more than anything.”

He thought for a moment.

“More than breathing?”

Thank you God for sweet innocence.