I Get No Respect

For the past week, my oldest little treasure has handled some things that usually spin him into an oblivion of misbehavior extraordinarily well...when he's in his father's care. For instance, when we drop him off at Sunday School he usually pitches a full-body tantrum on the floor. He shakes the Dutch door, screaming for us to come back and get him. But not this week! This week, Joe took him alone, and the big man on campus just walked through the door, Thomas the Tank Engine backpack slung across his shoulder, all cool, and didn't look back.

When I take him to get his hair cut, I have to pin him using various wrestling holds. It's quite a bit like taking him to the doctor, actually. He screams, "She's hurting me! She's hurting me!" as the barber snips his babyfine hair. It's just plain ridiculous. This week his father took him, and it's a Christmas miracle--no tears!

It's not that he's never misbehaved or been difficult for his father. He just has a whole new respect for him ever since he put two and two together that his old man flies the same plane as Santa. Santa taxied in on a T-6 at the squadron children's Christmas party, like ten days ago. Since then, Luke has been reflecting on the events of the afternoon in his mind over and over. The other day, he said to Joe, "Do you fly the same plane as Santa?" Joe looked at me, a bit puzzled, and I nodded. "Yes," he said as it dawned on him what Luke was talking about, "I fly the same plane as Santa." And now all of a sudden, Luke thinks he's one degree from Santa Claus and that his dad is some kind of golden ticket. He probably pictures them together at the squadron bar after a long day's work, having a brewski, slapping each other on the back, playing Crud and sharing war stories.

And here I am, left with the typical misbehaviors and struggles. I don't think Luke will be quite as awestruck when I tell him that I once put together a design proposal for a well-known ambulance chaser in Little Rock. Maybe I could get some respect if I told him I play Mah Jongg with Mrs. Claus at the Officers' Club?

I know, I know, another post having to do with Santa. You would think we don't talk about anything else around here. We do--we've been talking with Luke quite a bit about the true meaning of Christmas, actually. The only Jesus-related funny, though, was when Luke claimed to be Jesus. And really, that's not quite as funny as it is blasphemous.