It’s every parent’s hope and prayer: “Lord, I pray that my kid has a child just like him someday.” I always joke that, based on my experience, it happens even if you adopt… Charles is so much like me it’s spooky.

I was thinking about this this morning when I woke up late because I forgot to set the alarm last night. I ran downstairs in my PJs and told my son Charles that we had to move, that we were going to miss the bus because I got up a half hour too late, but I would drive him to school. Then I ran upstairs, got cleaned up and shaved and stuff and dressed, and ran back downstairs.

Charles was dressed for school, had laid out his breakfast and mine, poured our drinks, and basically was standing politely by the table waiting for me to come down so we could eat breakfast together, as we always do.

Then I remembered a little further back last year when I had gotten some disappointing news, some of the most disappointing of my life, and was so in a funk about it that all I could do was just sit on the couch in the living room in disbelief. When I got up and went to the kitchen about an hour later, my son Charles had (as quietly as he could, because I didn’t remember hearing it) put all the dishes away in the dishwasher (which normally I do), loaded it up (which normally he does) and then washed all the hand-wash stuff (which I always do). I found out later that he had turned to my wife and said “I think I’ll help Dad out, because I think he’s really sad today.”

So we finish our breakfast and Charles already has laid out all his school stuff. He brushes his teeth and hair and gets his shoes on and we go outside to wait for the bus where the trash has been taken away but not the recyclables yet. Charles grabs the trash bin and brings it up the driveway like he often does, not even thinking about it. Helping out is just something he does. (Yes, I know, he’s not a teenager yet…)

Now I’m thinking of the time a few weeks ago when I had to clear the driveway of snow on a Sunday when we would normally have been watching a movie together, just Charles and I, and to make it go faster, so that we could spend more time together, Charles grabs the snow shovel and starts helping me clear snow, which he normally doesn’t do, and he really DOES help out… a little…

Or this past Christmas Eve, when I got the best Christmas present of my whole life when Charles, who was sitting in the seats while I was up front playing guitar and leading the music, turns to the perfect strangers sitting behind him, points to me, and says “That’s my Dad” (I cry every time I tell that story). And then adds “I get my musical talent from him,” adding a touch of hilarity to that amazing moment. (Remember, not only is Charles adopted, he’s not even the same color as me!)

So, as Charles got on the bus, after our hectic and rushed morning, and as the bus pulled away, I thought of that hope and prayer that all parents have.

Yes, Charles, I Hope You Have a Child Just Like You Someday… I hope, someday, that you are blessed enough to have an amazing child… who is just like you…

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