COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS!

Philip can often be so annoying. Physically or verbally interrupting at the most inappropriate times. Like when I'm watching TV and my favourite commercial comes on. You know the one...Head and Shoulders...football player...big hair! And right in the middle of their mesmerizing dialogue (which I know from memory having seen it now for the hundredth time), Philip asks some ridiculous question...like, "When's supper, I'm starving?" So annoying!

Or like when Diane and I are in a heated debate (hehe) over my apparent inability to properly clean the bathroom. "You cleaned it without your glasses on, didn't you?" And just when the gloves come off..."Yes I cleaned the mirror - has it not been saying anything to you lately?"...in barges Philip, holding his finger, blood dripping all over the 'clean' floor, and mumbling some nonsense about cutting it on a can of pop. So annoying!

But most of the time he's very elevating and entertaining. He's a happy guy and radiates happiness much more than 'normal' folks. Tears are always 'of joy'.

Here are some examples of how his innocent behaviour and naive approach to life keep us smiling, laughing, and 'loving him to pieces'!

Recently cousin David went to Vancouver to watch his beloved Phoenix Suns play the Toronto Raptors in a preseason basketball game. He'd been planning this trip for a while, and Philip was privy to all the details. He was just as excited as David, even though he wasn't going (at the age of 31 Philip has yet to master the art of envy - that particular concept is completely foreign to him, so entering into another's excitement is no problem for him).

The game was being televised, so Philip was convinced he'd see David - at Rogers Arena...among 18,000 fans. He couldn't wait for the game to get started. The TV was cued up and he was in hyper-watch mode. All senses on high alert! If cousin David was in that crowd - Philip would know it!

I was out that night, so missed the game. When I arrived home, Philip greeted me at the door. I could sense the excitement, the jubilation, the satisfaction. "So, how was the game, buddy?" I asked. "Oh it was awesome - the Raptors crushed Phoenix!" he replied. "And?" I quizzed. "And, I almost saw David!" he beamed. I looked over at Diane and she gave me that 'knowing' look. "That's great Philip, you must have been so pleased." "Oh I was", he said. Then he asked how I'd made out at the card game I'd been at. "I almost won", I replied. "Good for you, dad", he rejoiced...and turned to leave. Just before entering his room, he stopped, looked back, and with glee oozing from his innermost being, commented, "What a night, eh dad?"

What a night indeed!

Church can be a funny place. Recently we attended a special event there which commenced with a magnificent Baptist meal (I sure hope the Baptists run the kitchens in heaven). Philip attended with us and together we sat at a table of 8. After the meal there was a break while the tables were cleared. I remained seated, as did Philip's teenage friend and a woman, aged, and I'm guessing here, around 35. Philip had gone home to check on a wrestling match which was on at the same time as the dinner. When he returned I leaned into him and asked why it was so important that he had to go home (remember, we live only 3 minutes away). He assured me it was all good - this was an important match. I wasn't about to argue, after all, he'd willingly chosen G-O-D over W-W-E! "What match is that?" I inquired. He looked over at the other two at the table, moved in close to me, and with genuine concern, whispered into my ear, "I don't want the young ones to hear. It's the Hell-in-the-Cell Match!"

Well, I was so impressed (shocked, actually), thanked him for his discreteness, and quickly turned away - so he couldn't see the huge smile on my face.

Philip knows nothing about Robert's Rules of Order, nor has he any clue who Ann Landers might be...but he sure knows how to conduct himself in social settings. Someone's done a good job with this young man. That would be his mom! My yelling and screaming at the refs and umps and all the lousy ads on TV certainly haven't helped his social acumen - and these negative influences have proven to be a never-ending battle for Diane. But hey - what else has she got to do!

So we're sitting in church last Sunday. Diane and I in our finest 'Sunday-go-to-Meetin' duds...Philip in his runners, his beige cords and his bright red Detroit Red Wings jersey. A can of pop in one hand - a pencil in the other. He was good to go! The offering plate is slowly making its way down our row. Philip sees it. Panics! His hands are full! The tension is evident. Diane takes control. And being an 'interventionist' by profession (or is that by birth?...hmmm), she intervents (intervenes?). Reaching across she takes the plate from the person sitting to Philip's right. He thanks her profusely, takes a sip of pop, and settles in for the long haul. I mean the sermon.

Ten minutes later the Pastor is well into his message...mesmerizing the masses...placating the penitent...satisfying the saints...scorching the sinful! Philip's attentiveness suddenly wanes. He becomes fidgety. Nudging close to Diane he slowly lowers his head down on her shoulder. Diane leans in and asks, "Are you all right? Are you feeling ill?" "I'm okay, mom," he assures her. "It's just that his words are making my eyes tired!"

And with that he stood up, edged past us to the end of the pew - and headed for home. We found him there 20 minutes later, nestled snuggly in his bed, fast asleep. Purring peacefully like the angel (hehehe) that he is.

Our blessings don't always come from the church. They're often a lot closer to home!