Those of you without a WORLD magazine subscription should first examine your personal priorities and salvation, and then head down to your local Christian bookstore and pick up this week's copy, so you can see me lay into, well, Christian bookstores.
So if playing sports builds character, what kind of monsters might some of these NFL thugs have become without its moral influence? Thank goodness for those legions of coaches and parents who make the spiritual growth of their young charges take precedence over winning. Otherwise we might have a real bloodbath on our hands.
The reality, of course, is that while many (mostly unsung) coaches and parents fit this bill, there are far too many who are little better than Michael Vick, running gladiator academies to surface the most vicious beasts possible, because that's the cheapest road to victory. And why do thug-breeding coaches thrive? Because we love our sports.
I'm not sure that Isaac is actually sleeping in his bed. For those of you relatively new to SitG, Isaac is our two year-old (though he frequently insists that: "Tomowwow is my birfday. I'm telling the twuf. It is"). He's made a fairly regular habit now of climbing into our bed around 3 a.m. Understanding that this could become habit-forming, I've taken to waking him immediately, picking him up along with whatever toddler paraphernalia he's dragged down the hall with him, and plopping him back onto his own bed.
The other night, as I carried Isaac back to bed, I noticed that Eli's sheets were strangely askew, and he was scrunched up against the edge of his bed. Like a two year-old had been sleeping beside him. A two year-old who likes to scoot up right next to his sleeping partner. Curious, I peeked into Caleb's room. Same thing.
The next morning, I asked them if their brother had crawled into bed with them. As it turns out, he's making pretty regular rounds. He's like a hobo, sleeping in one place until he gets rousted, then moving on to another. Apparently he's big on the snuggling, and well, one can't snuggle by oneself, can one? I'm waiting for the night I discover that he's crawled into Isaiah John's crib. It's only a matter of time.
Isaac is such an affectionate boy. He's going to make some sweet girl very happy. He'll also drive her crazy. As I think on it, she'll probably need to be beefy as well as sweet, because he doesn't seem to be developing any gentle skills at all. All the more reason to sell our house and move out to farm country, where the girls, I hear, are tougher.