Spring Bud Tales: Melt into Springs

Friday before Mother’s Day weekend I had an extended outing with my eldest, my Miguel. He was supposed to be up at a cabin with friends. Instead he discovered he had to work that Saturday.

“Mom,” he laughed, “ three of us tried to swap out this weekend. Somehow we swapped with each other and we still have to work with each other tomorrow!”

What would have been a lonely evening for him became a Mommy-son time as the sun dipped toward the Pacific. Oh, for the ear candy of ukulele strummed ballads of Aloha, instead of piped-in, nasal pop noise. But Miguel and I were strolling the magical Aisles of  Kohl’s, admiring the local color, and fixing on racks and stacks of souvenirs marked “Clearance, an additional 15 percent off our sales prices.”

We almost snagged a dress shirt just under six bucks, but for the collar size.

“Mom it’s too tight. Besides, can it really be a [bargain] sale?” Miguel reflected as a former employee. “[The clothes] get hung on the racks, then they go on sale, then a few weeks later they’re moved to clearance racks!” 

We didn’t linger over the bait and switch. Miguel instead had us linger around the tie racks. “Ooh, Mommy this is a nice, brown tie.”

I knew he held it in his hands as talk drifted onto friends getting married to visits with relatives. Then I heard how he handled bank customers over the drive-through intercom. His bank had a drive-through as thick as fast food places at mealtime--only the lines traffic snarled around the block.

“Mom, I don’t want to shout but I have to repeat things because they’re texting or chatting or handling kids. So I’ve figured out how NOT to get upset with them. I do it by z.........”

Drat my tinny ears, I still had to spell back what I thought he said. "You mean S-I-N-G-I-N-G?”

“Yes!” his voice chimed, as he sang, “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Gentle reader, can you image Mr. Rogers in red cardigan, button shirt, tie, slacks, and rubber soled sneakers?

I also imagined my other son, my Buddy, in a short-sleeved polo shirt and khaki carpenter pants.

“Hey, Miguel, I just learned that’s how your brother handles being upset.”

“Really?”

“His counselor told me. Whenever he gets upset, he sings.”

So my two sons teach me what God through King David did in Psalm 131. A few moments later Miguel left the store with a new tie. Teary eyed, I cradled my quieted cell phone. Despite many miles apart Mommy and son hearts surely joined Buddy’s current lyrical calmer.

Want to sing along?