time with my boy :: savor is a verb

September 7, 2009


Yesterday I took a ride with my boy Isaac.  He’s eight.

We are behind the times a bit and had not yet ventured into the fantastical world of muggles and trolls and magic that is Harry Potter.  Until a few days ago.  We caved.  We dipped our conservative Christian toes into Hogwart’s realm… and we liked it.

So now the fam was hooked, after the first flick, and everyone’s clamoring for the second one, and I set off on a quest.  Bouncing from Blockbuster to Blockbuster, looking for the ellusive “Chamber of Secrets,” with Isaac as my copilot.  He had chased me down the alley as I rolled away from the house, huge smile on his face, mock pleading in his voice, arms in the air with dramatic flourish… a perfect (tongue in cheek) picture of desperation.  I conceded, opened the door, and I had a travel companion for the afternoon.

These are moments to savor.  One-on-one time with my boys.  I can laugh hard at their silly jokes, and grab their knees to make them yelp, and sometimes be caught by surprise at their insight.

Light banter.  Isaac revelling in his victorious plea to join me on the quest.  A shared Diet Mt. Dew.  And then… VICTORY! After three failed attempts, we rolled away from our fourth Blockbuster parking lot of the afternoon with our quarry in our mitts!

I don’t remember what led to my first-rate delivery of a Brittish accent, but it doesn’t take much when Harry Potter is the subject matter.  Whatever I said, Isaac mistook my flawlessly executed Brit accent for Austrian and asked, “Is that Ronald Artsenschvagen?”

Yes.  Yes it is.  The great Austrian weightlifting champion turned body builder turned actor and now governor of the great state of California… Ronald Artsenschvagen.

I laughed and laughed.  Until I cried.  I couldn’t stop saying it, now in my flawlessly executed Austrian accent… “Raaanold Aaahtsenschvaaagen!”

Then Isaac, listening intently to my Austrian delivery, followed up with… “Oh, he’s IRISH?”

Mirth overload.

Several minutes later, I was still shaking my head and muttering quietly to myself. “Ronald Artsenschvagen… good times.”  I looked over at Isaac, who smiled back and said, “Savoring the moment, dad?  You do that a lot.”

BAM.  Profundity from a boy.  Yes, Isaac.  I’m savoring the moment.  And I sure hope you’re right. I hope I do that a lot.

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“time with my boy :: savor is a verb” by Joshua Skogerboe is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

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Psalm 24:7 & Luke 10:42 >> Like David, and Mary, I'm in pursuit of my one thing. I'm the Pastor at St. Olaf Lutheran Church in Montgomery, IL. Pastor, teacher, writer, communicator, designer, and drummer. I definitely got the better deal in my marriage to Amy. And I couldn't be any more proud of my five amazing boys. Deeply grateful.

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