Ah, youth.
I was young once. Not that I’m crippled and decaying, but I certainly move slower than I did a decade ago. I say that because as fast as my mind still races, my body tells it to get stuffed. Which it does, apparently.
Getting ready for an activity, my daughters and I labored intensely to create the comic book decorations for a dance at our church. I teach a young boys class and one of the little tikes came strutting up as I was cutting out one of my detailed onomatopoeia works of art.
“Brother Jaime, are you going to the dance?” he asked.
“Yes,” I responded, “I’ll be there.”
“You gonna come in a costume?”
“Sure am.” I smirked.
“What will you be?”
I winked at him and smiled, “It’s a surprise.”
“Oh,” he said with a straight face, “Probably a hungry-hungry-hippo, huh.”
Ah, youth.
You take them everywhere…but they always find their way home.
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