The Boys

Ethan walks up to me yesterday. He's got a blue shirt with a "Superman" logo on it. He's got a long sleeve shirt's sleeves tucked into the collar of his shirt. He's got a pair of white socks on his hands. He has a pair of white socks on his feet.

He hands me a belt. "Can you put this on me?," he asks, "Superheroes wear belts."

Amidst this tragedy are the comedic characters - Ethan and Aidan, who everyone calls "The Boys."

In one room, you'll find Jen, cooing to Zoe. In the other, you'll find the boys, jumping from one bed to the other until they break the slats holding the mattresses up.

In one room, in the early morning, you'll find two exhausted parents trying to catch a few hours of sleep. In the other, you'll hear the crunching of an apple. And potato chips. Aidan woke up. He was hungry, so he went foraging for food.

I one room, you'll see Jen trying to feed a fussy baby. In the adjoining bathroom, you'll hear water running. "Ethan!," Jen yells, "what are you doing?"

Ethan is kneeling on the bathroom counter with a handful of hair gel. His hair is dripping wet. "I'm doing my hair like Troy Bolton!," he offers.

Yesterday our dear friend Nancy came by to find the two boys eating popcorn from a big bowl. They decided they needed utensils to eat the popcorn. Ethan had a huge wooden cooking spoon. Aidan went with the wisk.

I am grateful for the boys. There's another story you'll hear sometime about the boys, and how they came along amidst so much trial and tension. But it's so obvious why they're here.

"Jesus," Ethan likes to say with stern instruction, "died on the cross. And now He lives in heaven and in our hearts."