Take today, for example. It was time for Zach to go to wrestling practice. I call to him and tell him to meet me in the car. It is evening, with a light sprinkling of rain, the temperature hovering in the late thirties, so I grab a coat on my way out the door. After waiting a few minutes, he has to dispatch a few troops in his virtual world, I watch my son sprint out of the door, dressed in a flimsy white t-shirt that he is uselessly using to protect the book clutched tightly in his hands. Why he needs a book at wrestling practice is another blog all together. He is almost to the car, when he abruptly stops and holds up his hand placatingly, as he turns and skip-runs back to the house.

A little late for a coat, I think with a shrug, while I wait for his return. A few minutes pass and I begin to wonder if he has forgotten we were going some where, when out he comes again, still clad in a thin, slightly wet t-shirt and shorts, oh, and don’t forget the book. He climbs into the car with a huff and I hurriedly back out of the drive, at this point we are no longer almost on time, but officially late.

“What did you go back in for?” I asked curiously as I drove down the street.

“Oh”, he said matter of factly, “I got my shoes and a new pair of socks.”

I shook my head in exasperation. Sadly to say, I wasn’t surprised. I am sure that wet feet were a small price to pay for the wonders flourishing inside of that mind of his. Just as long as he doesn’t forget his pants…

Zachary - Fall 2009

Here is Zachary’s picture. Emily says it looks a lot like last year’s. I think he’s handsome.

I did manage to find a few good ones. Here’s Zachary and Grandpa Gallafent.

Zachary and Grandpa Gallafent

Tomorrow … the casualty of Splash Mountain!