I backed out of the driveway, taking them to school with a smattering of mismatched mittens and library books.
“Who is going to pray for our day today?”
“No! I will!”
“Guys, you both can.”
“Okay, but I’m going first.”
“No, I’m going first!”
“Tyler, you can go first.”
“Dear God, thank you for our food, and help us to have a really bad day. Amen.”
“Why would you pray for a bad day?”
“Tucker told me to.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“That doesn’t really sound like something Tucker would ask you to do. And, you’re in charge of yourself anyway.”
“Can I try again?”
“But it’s my turn now. He already prayed.” A strong point. Plus, the commute to school lasts roughly three and a half minutes.
“Tyler, let’s let Tucker pray now. Then you can pray again.”
“Dear Jesus. Please let us have a really great day, and thank you for my mommy and my brother and my daddy and the snow, and please die on the cross again and again. Amen.”
Mental note: When time allows, teach boys that the crucifixion was a one-time gig.
“Tyler, do you have anything else to add?”
“Yes. Dear God. Thank you for today. And please let the joy come out all day long.”
Now that is a great thing to add. And this explains a lot about my sweet celebration of a second born, if this is his morning prayer.
I prayed next, closing the morning commute with prayers on behalf of the many teachers who need heaps of patience and wisdom to make a day like today come together with any positive outcomes. I thanked God for smart boys and good friends and healthy lunches and good choices. Amen.
“Thanks for praying, guys. I like when we start the day that way.”
“We should always start the day that way, Mommy.”
“And I should always go first.”
“No! I will!”
Aaaaaannd…. commute complete.
Seatbelt off, and out goes the tall one, running to catch up with his friends.
Blessings on your head, buddy.