My son peed on me tonight. He is working on potty training, and while in the shower, he let it fly. Gravity and velocity combined and found a landing point, my right foot. It warmed my heart(not really) but it did remind me just how far we have come. Douglas just turned four, and I am so blessed to be his father.
A few hours before his birth, while Sarah was not yet angry at my ability to impregnate, I wrote these few words:
March 23, 2002.
4:39 a.m.
Perhaps a brilliant mind he will have,
or the skills to cure cancer, or dementia, or AIDS.
Maybe the ability to design castles or kingdoms,
or planes or cars.
Could it be that he will speak with a dazzling splendor
and an eloquence that has not yet been experienced.
Perhaps a voice; angelic but strong.
Choirs from London and Carnegie
would vie for this gifted tenor.
But even better, he could have mustard seed sized faith
that is able to move mountains.
Such a faith will give him a blessed hope,
founded upon Christ...the Redeemer.
That is enough to make any father...overjoyed.
4:44 am
Four years later, I remain unsure what Douglas Richard Jenkins will become. Perhaps a sharpshooter...for in the shower, his aim sure is true.
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