Catching grenades

"Mama, when you were in your Air Force training,

did you have to practice catching grenades?"

This boy of mine asked me that the other night. I couldn't help but smile to myself, after telling him firmly NO--DEFINITELY NO we did not practice catching grenades.

It made me smile because I could only imagine a bunch of 20-year-old college kids, at their summer boot camp training, totally prepared for heat and sweat and push-ups and marching and tests of their leadership abilities. Then one morning they are lined up and told "Today, Cadets, it is time to practice catching grenades."

Nope, definitely not part of Air Force Cadet Officer Training.


It also made me smile because it represents what it is like around this house. Not that we are tossing around grenades, or tossing around any weapons, for that matter (expect the occasional Nerf dart). I mean that these funny boys of mine never stop moving, jumping, wrestling, racing (then screaming "it's not a race" when not in the lead). They never stop questioning, learning, growing, changing, and challenging. At the end of the day, I'm worn out by the intensity of living with such activity.

On top of it all, they never stop saying things that make me smile. I wouldn't have it any other way.