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Gavin the Wonder Kid has joined the world of kid messenger.
I didn’t know such a thing existed until a neon green oozy background popped up on my phone, and The Dad’s mini me filled the screen. Briefly, Gavin turned into a 2020-version of a lava lamp.
Trippy.
When the screen and my eyes settled, there was Gavin in all his 6-year-old glory. We chatted about nothing and everything. One of us was seasick. All of it was important.
He said we were going on an adventure. I was treated to a tour of their house, which was like being on a Tilt-a-Whirl. I got to see Daisy the Dog’s favorite little hiding spot, the bed pillows, the ceiling fan, my sister’s feet. I was treated to glimpses of the purply-grey sky through the bedroom window and heard the rumble of thunder. Gavin chatted about the pizza they were waiting for and about his dad working “hard, hard, hard” on something.
Another big rumble of thunder and he took off at a near-run. Gavin talked about how nervous he was, that a storm was coming in, and we had to go investigate to find the thunder. So, we did. On the Tilt-a-Whirl.
Every step of this adventure was punctuated by his laughter. He’d giggle at something funny, and at nothing. Love and laughter radiate from him.
He also loves (and hoards) cookies, much like The Dad.
Gavin had a drive-by kindergarten graduation over the summer. The Plainview Police Department led the parade with lights and sirens blaring, and family and friends celebrated with decorated cars, balloons, honking horns, and music. There stood Gavin in his bright red cap and gown, on the front lawn with his mom and dad, waving to everyone. We ended the drive-by with 9-10 dozen cookies to celebrate the big event, all bagged up and ready to share.
He. Did. Not. Share.
I found out after the fact, with two different phone calls that started with laughter (always a good sign). Turns out that when his parents, his Nana, his siblings tried to take cookies, he refused, saying that Aunt Patti said they were for him. All for him.
Now when I bake for them, I make something without chocolate for Lupe (his dad), something super chocolatey and zhuzhed up for everyone else, and plain chocolate chip cookies for Gavin. And they must be labeled, or they are all Gavin’s.
There’s a lot of love and laughter (and baked goods) in our family. Good times? Love, laughter, and baked goods. Tough times? Love, laughter, and baked goods. A pan of brownies or dozens of cookies may not solve the world’s problems. But package those up with love and laughter, and you’ve got a hug ready for delivery.
Patti Dobson writes about faith for The Eastern New Mexico News. Contact her at: