Gotcha! My Son's Mischief.

Gotcha!

          The word "Gotcha" is quickly becoming a household name in this small home of mine. I'm often perplexed by the son's need to playfully torment anything that moves. He will snicker and smile the most heart-melting smile a mother can behold while driving some other person, animal, or even automatic doors or elevators to distraction. My son will tease things that cannot be teased and get great enjoyment out of how it makes him feel.

         I often entertain family, friends, school staff with delightful stories of my son's mischief. Like the time my husband came home from a long hard day's labor to find myself sitting comfortably reading Stephen King's The Dark Half and asked for a change of clothes. I replied that his clothes were in the closet. My husband then unfastened his pants and proceeded to look. He had his back to our bedroom door and before I could utter a single word of warning our son came bursting into our room and whoosh! pulled his father's pants down to his ankles. It all happened in a blink of the eye with our boy's note worthy words singing true,"Gotcha! Daddy." It was indeed a worthy moment, my husband's flushed face and how fast that man can move and my son's hysterical giggling at success in embarrassing his father.

         This has become a lifestyle for my son. His pleasure gained from telling jokes, hiding behind doors, hiding car keys, and whoopee cushions is priceless. I often see my boy leaping in excitement, baby blue eyes a twinkle and honey-chestnut hair bouncing while doing something he knows is wrong but enjoying it too much to care about the consequences. I'm always watching my step, and often just a little too jumpy. God knows where he'd be lurking out in hiding waiting to pounce.

         He's a joy in school, teachers love his optimism and his ability to set the class in outbursts of tearful laughter. Little girls adore him and are always trying to sneak a kiss or a hug which in turn gets an "ewww" from my boy. He's always on the go, he doesn't walk, he runs. His energy is boundless and often I get tired just watching him go.

         Everyday is exciting, intense, and memorable with this bright addition to our family. I often wonder how the years will flow to us, with my son joking and laying booby traps. I feel as he grows I myself will become more ill-equipped. I often ask myself would my son be so extraordinary if he hadn't been born on Friday the thirteenth, April Thirteenth.

         Oh well, I guess I'm left to ponder all the while watching my back!

Dedicated to five year old son, Jordan, who is now eight. Love Mommy