Gobble Fest

November 22, 2009

Every year right before Thanksgiving, my husband hosts an event called “Gobble Fest” at the elementary school where he teaches. In the center ring of this annual circus, you’ll find a highly competitive game of Cornish-game-hen bowling. That’s right—six lanes of unbelievably wound-up children hurtling frozen Cornish games hens across a plastic-covered gym floor toward a set of multi-colored bowling pins. It’s quite a scene to behold.

I arrived a little late for the event this year, hand-in-hand with Wyatt and balancing Graham on my hip. We waded through the crowd of kids and parents to get in the door, and once inside, we hung back to watch the controlled chaos unfold. Christian was there in the middle of it all, teaching this kid and that how to properly launch their frozen fowl, and it was a real treat for me to watch him in his element.

Several minutes went by with game hens flying, kids running and laughing, parents standing by dumbfounded, and my own sweet hubby keeping everything under control as much as can be reasonably expected. Wyatt watched it all with his mouth agape and his eyes full of wonder. Then at last, when he couldn’t stand still any longer, Wyatt slipped his hand out of my own and made his way through the bustling crowd toward his daddy.

Within a matter of seconds, Wyatt had scurried and scampered his way through a pack of children much bigger than he, and when he arrived at Christian’s side, he simply placed his hand on his daddy’s leg to say “I’m here.” In all the hubbub, Christian hadn’t noticed our arrival, and when he looked down and saw his little red-headed boy clinging to his pant leg, he smiled probably the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen from him. I stood motionless, watching it all with a lump in my throat.

Moments like these remind me just how lucky we are to be parents. Life can be so painfully busy that it’s easy to wish for the “old days” when Christian and I could sleep as late as we wanted, go on a spontaneous date, or vegetate on the couch watching marathon Sopranos. Those days are gone. But in their place, among the chaos of our own lives, we have moments when the touch of Wyatt’s hand or a giggle from our Grammy can make it all worth it—and then some.

Published in: on November 22, 2009 at 9:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

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