I had sort of an awkward moment the other day. Oh, I know that is fairly common for me, what with my collection of strange pictures taken of weird people, vehicles, animals and bumper stickers, but this was more of a personally weird moment.
I was sitting in my office talking to a co-worker about the briefing I was about to deliver to a room full of law enforcement officers on what is in effect, youth crime. As we sat there and genuinely knocked on wood, thankful that our own kids had never been in any sort of trouble requiring the adjudication of matters by the legal system, another co-worker, a man who I have known for at least a decade, walked in and asked for advice about his high school aged son who was getting ready to appear before a judge for some violation.
In a perfect world, our kids are born with ten fingers and ten toes, all the right parts and a fully functioning head on their shoulders. They learn to crawl, walk, run and can physically do so, and with the right nurturing, they pick up your good habits and hopefully, recognize the bad ones and opt to forgo them. And still, in a perfect world, at every step of the way, I genuinely believe that there is a whole lot of luck that is required in order for you to get your kids from birth to responsible adult.
So I sat, literally minutes away from talking to a group of law enforcement types with a pitch to have them find, apprehend and put away young offenders, when a man who I know and respect came in with news of his own misguided son who had gotten caught up in bad things, and now needed to see a judge.
The truth is, any kid is susceptible to doing stupid things. It is how you handle the stupid things your kids do that makes the difference. But even then...
My wife and I won the lottery. A little bit of the chankla, a whole lot of luck.
The wind is rolling in and I swear, in the last few hours the temps have dropped from solid shorts and t-shirt weather to no kidding, bust out the snuggly. That must mean it is time for the movie.