Priceless Joy...

I wish for all of us that we could bottle up the joy that Youngest has. Well, truthfully I wish I could bottle all of my children's athleticism, energy, creativity, good-looks, and you know, so on and so on... If I could package THAT stuff and sell it, I would be a rich woman. Aside from all Youngest's other endearing characteristics I must tell you the boy has pure, unbridled joy. Don't we pray that there are certain innocent things our children will never lose? This would be on top of that prayer list.

Little dude's birthday was yesterday. Six years old. God is so amazing, He crafted together and incredible evening. I couldn't have pieced it together any better myself. Our church small group meets on Wednesday evenings. We purchased a cake to have for dessert in celebration of his big day. About two hours before showtime, I receive a text from one family: whole house is sick, can't make it to bible study. Cool, I think. Hope they feel better. I proceed with making preparations for our group's dinner. Yes, my friends, we serve dinner every Wednesday. 'Cause we roll like that. I put the lasagnas in the oven and return to the project, errr - JOY of helping Bball Girl with her homework. By the way, whoever said fractions were do-able is a big, fat liar. This is our third round of helping children with fraction homework and I swear The Hub and I haven't mastered them yet.

Shortly thereafter, I receive another text. Another family has a conflict; won't be able to make bible study. Wow... that's two families down. We're a small clan on Wednesday nights so that leaves one family remaining that we are sure will come. There are always those infrequent folks who show up, but these three families for sure are always in attendance. I relay to The Hub how things are panning out and he decides to give the third family a call. Turns out they can't make it either. No lie. All three of our regular families are MIA. The Hub and I chuckled, God is giving us a night off. And it just so happens to be Youngest's birthday.

We proceed with enjoying that bible study dinner with just the Copelands in attendance. We celebrate with Youngest's cake and some ice cream and surprise him with an announcement of a trip to Five Below. Do you know Five Below? Shoot, it's a dollar store on steroids. It's a kid's fantasy land. And the store is just small enough that you really can feel alright with letting them run the aisles like they have no sense. I don't think the store clerks are 100% thrilled with our visits, but hey we spend plenty of $5s there so I don't want to hear any grumbling.

I would love to tell you this was a pre-planned birthday surprise. Truth is, us folks are busy. Can I say that as "bizzz eeeee?" This old gal had no time to get the fella anything for his birthday. No worries, I thought to myself. His birthday party is Saturday. We are braving Chuck E. Cheese for this child. He ought to be getting us a present. So here we have this free evening presented to us as a beautifully gift-wrapped present from God. To Five Below we go...

For good measure, Bball Girl and Soccer Chick were shopping too. Youngest was worse than a kid in a candy shop. He loves that store! He got a basket and he roamed the aisles, almost salivating at the mouth over all his choices. What did his mom do? Well, Five Below has pull for not just the kiddos, you know. I roamed the aisles too. You ever shop like that? You know you are in that store for one reason, and one reason only, but you also know, there might be something in that store that catches your eye and you might be buying it. My lovely little eyes fell upon Cow Tales. These wonderful little candies are disgustingly good.

You know when I saw them there was only about 3 flat seconds before they landed in Youngest's shopping basket. I know, I know. A moment of pure weakness. Who needs a stick of white sugar, covered in God knows what and tastes fantastic? Apparently I did. Apparently, in my moment of fleshly operation I needed 4. In my defense, this was my ONLY purchase for my self. Not a very good defense, I know... I think what makes it worse is my discovery upon returning home. I reach in the bag, prepared to enjoy some of my greedy gain, and lo and behold they are the chocolate version. Disgusting. Can I say that as "diss - gust - ting!" As much as I like the ones wrapped in the white wrapper above, I can't stand the chocolate ones. I could do nothing but laugh at my own foolishness. I just had to have them and turns out I didn't even take the time to get the right ones. That's how you know I didn't need them.

The three Youngest Copelands finished their shopping and Youngest, in all his happiness, wound up with a Nerf gun that shoots 6 foam bullets wherever his little heart desires and a few other goodies. The joy on his face from these 5 items he was allowed to purchase was priceless. He could barely contain his excitement until he got home. You know you have to use your ammunition correctly, right moms and dads? "No toys until your bath is done!" Zoom! Flash! Quicker than lightning he was in that bath and ready to go. As If we didn't give him enough play time, you better believe he was the first person up and out of bed today. How do I know? Easy, I'm in the bathroom and hear this light knock on the door. As I stand in my underwear and bra, thinking I'm relatively safe, I open the door and turn back around. No sooner than I return to my preparations, I hear a click and I am shot...literally... in the butt with a Nerf Gun foam bullet. "SCORE!" yells Youngest. The boy died laughing. I thought I was going to have to pick him up from off the floor he was laughing so badly. I'd say he likes his purchases.

We did hit one bump in the road with our progress this morning. At one point, after I removed the newly purchased toys from Youngest's grasp in order to encourage him to get moving on his dressing, I found him sitting on his bed daydreaming, looking as if he was physically unable to move. "What are you doing, Youngest?" I ask him. " Thinking of what I will do when I get those toys back." Hey, so long as I don't take any more bullets in the butt, I think we are good. Before we left the house, he gives me the sweetest old hug you ever wanted to see. "Mom, I love you sooooo much." Gullible old me fell for that, quicker than you can say "huh?" As soon as that little treasure-of-a-boy pulled away from the hug, he mumbled, "now maybe I can get my stuff back..." Hey, I can't be mad at the boy for knowing how to work things.