The Master

We have known for a while that our Drew has a knack for negotiating.
A penchant for persuading.
He's a master manipulator, I mean mediator.

A stunning amount of my time is spent reminding him just who is in charge around this house.
One time, our "Mom's in charge" conversation went something like this:

"Andrew! Who is in charge?"
(sigh) "You are..."
"And Who put me in charge?"
"God did."
"Right. Did you know that the Bible says..."
".. I know, I know... Chapter 23"
"Go to your room."

And although my reminders are constant, I sometimes wonder who really is in charge around here.

The other night, we had the best time chatting with our family in Alabama via a video webcam. Our family crowded around the screen of our computer, while modern technology beamed aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and at least one dog within what seemed to be physical reach.

Drew loved seeing everyone (and had a pretty good time seeing himself on the computer screen as well). But towards the end of our conversation, a very real sadness/lonliness just descended upon his little countenance. Everyone on the other side of the screen saw what I was seeing on my lap. His little shoulders hunched over, he turned his face from the camera and he buried his head in my hair. I felt tiny hot tears hit my skin, and we all began to ask him, "What's wrong!?!"

Apparently, it was just too much of a good thing... too far away, and he had to leave the room to compose himself. I ended the video call, and found my son still crying in his room when I walked in.

He sobbed, "I miss them so much!"
"I know, buddy... we'll go see them soon!"
"When??"
"I don't know. I need to look at my calendar, and grandpa's work calendar. We'll find a time."
"Let's look at the calendar now. I want to go see my grandparents. I want to see my cousins."
"OK, we'll look at the calendar in the morning. We'll go as soon as possible, I promise."
"You will? We can?"
A hopeful smile replaced the crying, and he wiped away the tears.
"So, mom..."
"Yes, honey?"
And without missing a beat, the quiver still lingering in his pitiful voice, he said, "But I sure don't want to drive 10 hours to see them... I really think we should fly!"

I wish I could tell you that I laughed off the suggestion.
But alas, I found an amazing sale on airfare and we are boarding a plane one week from tomorrow.
For six days of summer fun with family.
He asked if we could make it ten days, but honestly, who does he think is in charge around here?

Huh??