A few weeks ago my sister came to visit. While she was anxious for a break from her own busy routine, I made it clear that she would be painting, sorting, shopping, and generally allowing me to boss her around (which is fun because she is older and has bossed me for YEARS!) I also took her to the National Mall and for pedis, so we're even.
In the past, my husband and I loved to tackle painting projects. Shortly after starting, we wanted to tackle each other, not at all in a romantic way, more like in a "you don't know a stinkin' thing about anything" kind of way. The solution was easy. Because my building contractor dad taught me, I know the proper way to paint. Therefore, I simply painted while hubby was at work. Then the job was done and everyone lived to enjoy it.
When my sister and I began taping the trim, we realized there would be no fights this time. We both did it the "right" way. The job was fun and easy. We laughed when Number 2 walked into the room with an injury and we quickly said, "It'll feel better when it quits hurting" a famous line of my father's. I used to joke that my arm could be falling off my body and my dad would tell me to "walk it off." When I accidentally smudged the ceiling with the paintbrush, I threw out a flippant "dog-gone-it!" Throughout the weekend we assembled furniture, hung pictures, and enjoyed work well done.
Today, I thought of my dad again. My favorite quote of his is: "Some people think they're kids are great, but mine really are." I loved that line because he meant it. I love it also because I feel the same way about the people in my home who share my name.
A while back we had to drop off a package at the post office. Number 2 quickly volunteered to run it inside. I saw him hustle to the door and I saw him politely waiting in line. While I waited in my vehicle, an elderly man came up to my window and motioned for me to open it. He said to me, "I saw a boy walk in carrying a package. Is he yours?"
From my experience in Russia, I felt like I was in for a verbal beating about the ills of allowing kids to go somewhere alone. I was dead wrong.
"Yeah, what of it?" I said
"What of it? Well let me tell you. In my 88 years of life, I have never been treated so respectfully by a young man. He opened the door for me, smiled at me, and let me get in line first. What a thoughtful, special young man. Will you tell him, please, to be a doctor? We need good people in the world like him to be doctors."
Needless to say, I tearfully accepted his praise, and passed it onto my son.
This week my kids are spending their Spring Break doing a series of Service Projects within DC. They loaded up clothes to get dirty, shovels, work gloves, and smiles on their faces. I'm so proud. Sure they get in occasional spats and sometimes don't shower as often as they should, but altogether, they are wonderful kids.
I hope the sayings I pass onto my kids are as valuable. Maybe not, "Is there any purpose to this story?" or "Don't leave the door open!" but maybe a little bit more "Prefer your siblings to others" and "Do it because it's the right thing to do."
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