Great.
Here's evidence that she's correct.
Mark just came up to me when I called him back from recess. He put his arms around my neck and swiveled my head towards him. He meant business.
He said, "I have a problem, Mom, and I need your help."
Okay...
"When I grow up I am going to be a builder and I'm going to need things."
He looked at me, inches from my face, to make sure I was still with him.
I was. I said, "You mean you'll need tools?"
"Yes, and other things. I'll need wood and wiring and bricks and a water heater to build a house. I'm going to need a lot of things. And I'll need your help."
He stared into my eyes. Waiting for my support.
I remembered my little brother Ammon, the builder. The creator of Popsicle stick suspension bridges and igloos. When he was about Mark's age he decided he needed to marry a wife with a ladder so that he would be able to build them a house. I guess he figured he could cover the rest.
When Ammon married Melanee, she gave him a ladder (and today's her birthday so happy birthday Melanee!).
It looks like I'm on the hook to supply Mark though. I told him I'd help him.
What else is a mother supposed to do when confronted with those brown eyes?
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