Six-year-olds

“When you’re six, most of your BINGO balls are still floating around in the draw tank.”–Stephen King

Jacob provides all the entertainment and poignancy our family needs at any given time. And he’s already drawn a lot of balls from the BINGO tank. He wants to know how far the Moon is from the Earth and how far to Mars and where God lives.

The other day in the car he said, “Dad, I wish I had a brother.”

“I’ll be your brother, buddy,” I said.

“OK,” he said, sounding a little disappointed but still satisfied.

Yesterday he asked what football games are on. During football season we would usually hit the backyard after the Titans game for a little gridiron of our own. Jacob always feels sorry for me when I lose.

Inside, Jacob likes to run around with his shirt off and is affectionate and kind-hearted. But I honestly don’t let him beat me in Monopoly, Yatzee, Battleship, Uno. He just wins. He’s like my brother, Toby, who would always get filthy rich in Monopoly and pay me to roll and move his man for him. Fifty bucks a roll. I should have asked a hundred. I’m not letting my son offer me money to roll and move his guy.

Jacob’s also a good dancer, and he loves to make like Tom Cruise (no, he hasn’t seen the movie or even know who he is) and dance in his underwear.

Jacob is, like my other two children, Ashley, 11, and Anna, 8, expressions of God’s grace in my life. And, as Vince Antonucci says, “People who receive grace should throw parties. They should walk around with silly smiles. They should dance the Cha-Cha in their underwear!”

Jill just got back from buying party supplies. Jacob turns six March 12. I feel like dancing.