Friday Night Cookout.
With Youth.
Because my husband is a youth pastor.
Miles lucked out that one of the youth had to babysit and brought her babysit-ees to the cookout.
They pushed him on the swing.
They catered to his every whim.
And when he took them in the garden, they listened intently as he told them the name of nearly everything we've planted. It was a proud moment for me.
Miles:
"Deees are tomatoes. We're gonna paint them red."
"Dees are the lettuce. You wanna eat one?" ....and they all did.
"Dees the cucumbwers." ...but it was the onions.
And I led him through a conversation with them about how we had built the boxes, filled them with dirt, planted seeds, and watered them and how he had helped with every step.
Shortly after the discussion, he looked up at me with the sweetest little smile on his face and said...
"Momma, dat makes me verwy happy."
Sneaking Dorito's makes him "verwy happy" too.
We had a nice little cookout.
It was super nice because it wore my children completely out.
So while Britton watched a movie on the barn with the teens and the mosquitos, and while my kiddos slumbered, I sat in the peace and quiet of my home.
Now THAT'S a good Friday night if you ask me.
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