'P - O - T - S!' he reads, and then again at the next street, 'P - O - T - S!'
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When he's happy that the kids are coming home, he spells out their names.
'S - A - M! V - A - V - A! K - A - C - H - I!'
And thanks to a brother who finds bathroom words hilarious, he can also spell butt.
When he's cranky or upset, he usually turns to that one. These days we go to more stores than usual ... if we're shopping and he wants to buy a toy and I've said no, out it comes: 'B - U - T - T!'
I tried to replace it by teaching him a new word. A few weeks ago I said "can you spell love? L - O - V - E." And I spelled it for him a few times. He wasn't interested.
Today we were walking home from the bus stop and he was sad the kids had all gone to school. 'B - U - T - T,' he sulked.
"What about L - O - V - E?" I spelled. I didn't expect him to remember, but I thought it might distract him from his bad habit.
'No,' he refused, shaking his head, 'I don't know how to spell love.'
Ha!
But I knew exactly how he felt.
Sometimes I'm cranky and I want the signs to spell my name and I spit the worst words out of my mouth. I straight up act like I don't know how to spell love.
But I do.
And if I am ever tempted to forget, I'm reminded every Christmas.
Stores are filled with shoppers looking for just the right way to bring joy to someone else's heart.
Groups and organizations host dinners, pack hampers, stuff closets full of clothes.
Thoughtfulness and generosity are foremost, and it is so deliciously beautiful.
Every part of it sings, shouts, and whispers about the heart of our Saviour.
Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.
-Hamilton Wright Mabie
Amen and amen.
Merry Christmas, friends.
xo
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