Remember the days of the old schoolyard, we used to laugh a lot.
Nothing in the world has brought me more wonder than the things my children have said and done in their growing years.
They are the bomb. Absolutely hilarious.
And pretty early in this journey called parenthood, I worked out I could not keep all of these stories in my head. So, at the end of every year, I enjoyed the wonder period. The time, most often on our two-week camping holiday, when I would sit down and recall the ‘annual winners’. Those comments or events that take the cake. Always making sure that I included stories from each of my three sons.
Like the time son number 1 was trying to understand the capacity of God and asks, “Can he hold up the whole world? Can he hold up the whole world in one hand? Can he hold it up in one hand and spin around? Can he even do the splits?” The ultimate. The splits.
Or son number 2, when disoriented on said camping holiday stood up and started weeing off the top bunk of the camper bunk bed. Straight onto me who thinks for a moment that it’s raining and we’ve sprung a leak. Well, we had but one of a different kind.
Or when son number 3 was asked to get his clothes ready for an early morning flight. We come downstairs the next morning to find his clothes laid out on a chair as if he is sitting in it. Very orderly. There are socks inside the cuffs of the pants then sitting in the sneakers. But even more hilariously, there are jocks inside the jeans.
I wrote those stories down. Every year. I kept them in a card box – one card per son per year filled with the memories that marked their year and touched my heart. It became our wonder box. And today, they are priceless. They capture small and large memories that make us all laugh out loud. My adult sons still ask, “Mum, let’s get out the box.” And we all know exactly what it means. It means laughter. Memories. Connection. Wonder. And those days have passed all too soon.