Arms of an Angel

As all of you know, I typically end up writing about my youngest son, R. That is because he is the one who lets loose with himself – he doesn’t care or think about what he says or does, it just happens. This can certainly be a good thing, but there are definitely times when I wish he had just a little more common sense, although I’m not going to hold my breath about him getting it.

The other day, B was over. I know – the kid never seems to go home, does he? That’s okay, though. At least I can say that R has a friend and is not a total introvert like I have been most of my life. They were swapping back and forth between watching tv and playing video games. And girl, let me tell you, do we have some video games! Thank goodness when they take a break from them, because listening to them for too long will absolutely drive you crazy.
 
Wait a minute. Maybe that’s not why I’m crazy. Maybe I’m just crazy because of who I am. I’ll have to think about that, and maybe expound on it in a later post.
 
So they take a break, and on comes the tv. I’m not sure what they were watching, exactly, because the commercial in question doesn’t usually appear on the children’s channels. I have seen the commercial a million times, but for the life of me, I can’t remember the association’s name. Something animal related, anyway.
 
The commercial comes on. “Arms of an Angel” by Sarah McLachlan is playing in the background. She is rambling on (much like I do) about the plight and the fate of the animals, and how only we can help, blah, blah, blah. It shows pictures of a ton of dogs in different cages, each with something wrong with it, or with a look of such sadness on his face that it is unbelievable. To tell the truth, the commercial makes me sad because I know there is nothing I can do to help the animals, and I couldn’t make myself work at an animal shelter, because there are way too many big dogs. I don’t much care for big dogs.
 
The boys are sitting on the couch. R says, “I don’t like watching that commercial.” Secretly, I’m thinking, “Neither do I,” and I’m keeping my head turned from the tv. “Why?” B asks. A typical response from R: “It makes me sad.” What more truth could come from the mouth of a child? I was impressed. B replies, “Oh, yeah, me too.” End of conversation. End of commercial.
 
So I was sitting over here at my desk, thinking and working. How do you tell when a child is really being honest or if he is just agreeing with what the other child says? I mean, B agreed that the commercial made him sad, but what if it really didn’t and he just agreed because R had said it?
 
Is that the way that boys grow up to become men who agree with whatever their wife or girlfriend says? Yeah, I know. I’m weird. I think about things like that, but somebody has too, or the thoughts will never be thought, right?
 
Until next time…..