I had set aside the whole afternoon yesterday to catch up on my work (I have two upcoming deadlines for articles, and a website revamp I'm working on), but when I sat down at the computer to start writing, my oldest son Tommy tapped me on the shoulder.
"Um, Dad," he said nervously, "Are you real busy today?"
"Yes I am," I answered, not even looking back at him.
"Oh, OK," he said. He started to walk out of the room, but Tommy's defeated tone of voice set off a little alarm in my head.
"Wait a second," I said, calling him back. "What's the problem?"
"It's just that I have this assignment due tomorrow, and I'm not sure how I'm going to get it done."
"You need help?"
"Yes."
"How long do you think it will take?" I asked, trying to plot out my work schedule.
"That depends," he said. "How far away is Oak Park?"
I groaned. He correctly intrepreted the groan.
"Then I guess it could take a long time," he said. "Remember that field trip I forgot about the other day? They went to Oak Park to look at architecture and take pictures for a project. Because I missed the field trip, I need to have my picture taken in front of seven different styles of homes in Oak Park."
"And it's due tomorrow?" I asked.
He nodded and braced for the verbal blowback. I sighed, but I knew what I needed to do.
"OK, fine," I said. "Grab the camera. Let's go."
Oak Park isn't that close to us on a good day, but yesterday we drove there and back in the middle of a snowstorm. The entire trip, including the photo session in Oak Park, took about 3 1/2 hours.
When we got home, it was already dinner time. I figured I'd get my work done after dinner, but while we were eating, Bridget announced we would be going to 6:00 mass.
"And after mass," she added, "we're either going Christmas shopping or setting up the tree."
I could tell that she wasn't having a great day either because she had been a little short with all of us, so I knew Johnny wasn't going to make her happy when he announced his plans. "I really want to go to youth group tonight after mass," he said.
"Then I guess we're not setting up the tree," Bridget said. "We do that as a family."
I cleared my throat.
"Um," I said gingerly. "I really don't think it's a good idea to go Christmas shopping tonight either. It's too dangerous out there. Tommy and I were slipping all over the road. Let's set up the tree instead. We can let Johnny put the star on the top of the tree when he gets home. That way it's still a family project."
Bridget reluctantly agreed.
But that family project decreased by one more when Tommy announced he still needed to finish his Oak Park project. I could tell that Bridget was really getting ticked, so when we got home from mass, Sean and I set up the tree, and pulled all the ornaments out of the basement. Having two incompetents working on the project finally lured Bridget in (to save us), and soon the three of us were working on it together. Sean was so happy he was bouncing off the walls.
"What could be better than putting up a Christmas tree!" he said.
With each new ornament, he got more excited. "I love that one!" he would squeal. "No wait! That one is the best one!" Each new ornament made him happier and happier.
"I am in the GREATEST MOOD!" he announced.
His happiness was helping Bridget, but I wasn't moved. My workload hadn't budged during a day that had been set aside to make lots of progress, and there was still three or four inches of snow on the ground that needed to be shoveled.
At 10pm I was outside, bundled up in my snow-shoveling gear, muttering to myself that I had officially wasted the day.
Suddenly the back door flung open, and a snowsuit-clad 11-year-old bounded my way.
"Dad," Sean said, "I'm coming out to help you shovel."
"It's bedtime, buddy. I can do this."
"Dad," he said, getting very serious, "I'm going to help. I've been waiting all year for the snow to come again so we could shovel together. I'm NOT missing this chance."
He grabbed his shovel and got to work. He was literally whistling while he worked. "Isn't this great! Isn't shoveling fantastic!" He meant it too. For the next forty minutes or so he regaled me with tales of snow; his recess plans, his snowball making techniques, his preferred location for a snowman, his anticipation of our upcoming skiing vacation. And by the time we were done, we were both sad that there wasn't anything left to shovel.
So we shoveled the neighbor's sidewalk and walkway too.
As we walked back to our garage to put away the shovels, Sean looked up at me. "You sure had a great day, didn't you, Dad? You got to spend all afternoon with Tommy on an adventure in Oak Park, you-me-and-mom got to decorate the tree, AND we got to shovel together! What could be better than that!"
There are times when that boy's cheerfulness can be a bit much to handle.
And there are times when it's exactly what the doctor ordered.
