The other night I asked Huck to say a prayer for me and my upcoming ear surgery, as the date is quickly approaching and with it a bit of trepidation.  Huck doesn’t pray out loud much, but when he does he’s extremely formal, referring to me as his mother, as if God doesn’t know me very well.  So he asked God to help his mother not be too scared or nervous and to know that it would definitely … or most likely … turn out okay.  Afterwards he said to me, “If you weren’t nervous for your surgery, I’d be worried.”

Last night  I came home from opening and closing night of the preschoolers’ spectacular Circus Play, and as I came up over a hill near our house, the incredibly beautiful, gigantic moon took me by surprise.  I came inside and shouted for everyone to bundle up and follow me.  Huck was in PJ shorts and a t-shirt with a pink towel turban on his head, straight out of the shower.  He excitedly put on snow pants and his winter coat and summer Crocs onto his bare feet as Troy leashed up the dog.  We four excitedly ran outside and around the corner near the spot where the moon had appeared for me moments before and oooed and awed together.  Troy and Huck began searching for the Big Dipper and I said, “Too bad I left my phone inside,” because it contains a night sky app that takes the guess work out of star gazing. Huck said in his best Shirley Temple voice, “Who cares?  We will remember this moment forever.”

Sometimes there’s nothing like nine year old wisdom.

My third ear surgery in nearly 16 years is next Wednesday the 11th at 7:30am.  Prayers, well wishes and howling at the moon appreciated.

Picture Stolen From Facebook