Most of Charlotte's children don't hang around at the end of the book. They quickly take to the air, drifting away into their new lives. Of course, a few of them stick around. A children's story has to have a happily ever after, even if the title character dies alone in an empty pigpen at an abandoned Fair grounds.
Today was my son's sixth birthday. He had a great day. At school, he got to share birthday cake ice cream sandwiches with his classmates. He even gave one to the principal. I know this because the principal called and left a message on our answering machine, thanking him and wishing him a happy birthday. Tonight, we took him to see The BoxTrolls. He's been talking about that movie since he realized it was going to be released on his birthday. Basically, my son got to do everything he wanted to do for his birthday.
It's difficult for me to believe that he's already six years old. As I said in yesterday's post, it seems only yesterday that I was rocking him in the NICU at the hospital, feeding him amid the beeps and chirps of the IVs and heart monitors. And now, he has his own mind. Knows what he wants. What he likes. Pizza for breakfast sometimes. Popcorn and Diet Mountain Dew at the movie theater. And the quickest bath possible when he gets home. Then a little computer time.
It's hard for me to think of him being independent. Not needing me as much. Yes, he still wants me to read to him at night, say prayers. When he hears something go bump in the night, he still calls out for me. In the morning, he sits in my lap and wants to snuggle for a couple minutes. He's still a little boy. But it won't last. Pretty soon, like Charlotte's children, he'll find a warm updraft and drift away into the world.
That's in the parent job description. Nurturing. Providing. Raising. Letting go.
Once upon a time, a barber named Sweeney lived near the palace. Sweeney had young son named Todd. Sweeney loved Todd with his whole heart. He would do anything for the little boy.
One day, an errant knight came into the barbershop for a shave. As Sweeney sharpened his razor, the knight watched Todd run around the room, riding a broom like a horse.
"That's a fine, strapping boy you have there sir," the knight observed.
"Yes," Sweeney said. "He's the joy of my life."
"Have you thought about his future?" the knight said.
Sweeney started shaving. "What do you mean, sir knight?"
"I'm in need of a page," the knight said. "Somebody to polish my armor, keep my swords sharp, water my horse."
Sweeney swiped the blade across the knight's cheek. "I couldn't part with him, sir."
"Have you ever heard the saying, my dear barber, that if you love something you should let it go?" the knight said. "And if it returns to you, then your love is true and sure."
Sweeney stopped shaving the knight. He stood thinking for a moment. Then, he raised his razor again. "Have you ever heard the saying, my good knight, that you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear?"
With that, Sweeney sliced off the knight's ear.
The knight thrashed in the chair. "Why did you do that?!" he cried.
Sweeney smiled. "Don't worry, kind sir," he said, throwing the knight's ear out the window. "You have to let your ear go. If it returns to you, they your love is true and sure."
The knight left the barbershop, whimpering.
Moral of the story: Don't get a shave or haircut from a guy named Sweeney.
And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.
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