Beaming With Pride





















Once in a great while my son, Eckhert, does something that makes me beam with pride. I know what you are thinking- that he finally started that humor blog he talked about a few months back.

Not it.

No humor blog. He did write one post which he sent to Edna, my inner editor, as he has no inner editor of his own. She checked it for typos and errors and sent it back quickly so that he could make haste setting up his blog and publishing his first post.

Which he never did. Instead he spent his time dropping dirty clothing onto his floor and throwing tissues into his garbage, watching them fall on the floor instead and shrugging.

He may have spent a bit of time studying though because he just finished high school one semester early, having rocked nine regents exams and graduating with honors. Not too shabby really.

But that isn't it either.

The beaming with pride comes from the confidence and originality he shows when he speaks to the army recruiters who are calling him regularly to tell him how joining can support him in his quest to go to college, open his own business, sleep all day...it matters not what he says his goals are...the person on the other end of the phone has an answer for him. Joining the army, marines...what have you...is guaranteed to make his dreams come true. He has told the recruiters that he is a pacifist, a communist, an anarchist, a sociopath, and a homosexual. He has claimed to be androphobic (afraid of men) and papaphobic (afraid of the Pope). The only thing that had them concerned was his claim of homosexuality. Everything else they could work with.

Rather than just telling the recruiters that he has no interest in joining up, he instead turns it into a game of chess- he says something outrageous and then waits for the response.

I was leaving the house the other night as Eckhert picked up the phone. It was Sargent Hunter.

"Just a second, Sargent Hunter," says my 18 year old son, "I have to say goodbye to my mommy."

Beaming I tell you. Just beaming.









Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

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