Two days ago, about five o’clock, I was sitting at the table helping my kindergartener with the first item on his homework list. Specifically, I was telling him to brainstorm things around the house that start with the letter “L.”
“Luke,” he said immediately.
“Good one,” I said.
“Yes, we have a lot of those around the house, don’t we?” (Many of them, in fact, were scattered around the table at which we sat — only one small part of the clutter chez Moyer these days.)
I have to admit, I didn’t really want to be there supervising homework. I was in that Weekday-Between-Four-and-Six P.M. Mood, that mood that comes on me after a long day of teaching and grading when I’ve just gotten home with the boys and the breakfast dishes are still in the sink and the dishwasher needs to be emptied before I can even start making dinner, which I should have started a half-hour ago. I can best describe it thus: After giving to my students all day, I realize I have several more hours of giving to do before the kids go to bed, and I start to wonder whether I’m actually up to the task.
But I dug deep and kept going. L words, things you find in our house. “Legs,” I said. “There are six legs here in the house at the moment, if you count yours and mine and Matthew’s.” Okay, I told myself, we’ve got Luke, Legos, legs. That’s got to be enough.
Luke’s face suddenly lit up as he thought of one more word. “Love,” he said.
Sometimes, your kids say just what you need to hear.