Just a little boy...

Leaving Byerly's last night with my final meal in hand, consisting of Rock 'n Roll sushi, a pair of grocery store quality wooden chopsticks, and an extra packet of soy sauce, I walked past a mother and her son loading their groceries into the back of their silver Mercedes minivan. The boy, who couldn't have been more than 3 years old, clumsily climbed up and into the van through the opening in the back, inhibiting her from accomplishing her task of securing her latest purchases and blatantly disobeying his mothers cries consisting of phrases including the infamous "Get down from there!", "You're getting all dirty!", "Stop horsing around!" But to the boy it must have sounded like Charlie Brown's principal. For he had a goal. He had a vision. He sensed an adventure that could not be missed. You could see it in his eyes, the determination that could not be deterred even by someone as powerful as his mother.

For you see, the third row seating had previously been collapsed prior to their voyage in anticipation of certain purchases of certain proportions. However, in the boy's mind 3rd row seating had now turned into a 30% grade mountain. Though not steep by any standard it nonetheless was a struggle to the summit. Pulling himself up to the saddle area between the twin peaks, seen to you and I as headrests, of this leather incline he, without hesitation, swung one leg over and exuberantly bellowed in his high-pitched voice "CANNONBALL" as he hurled his frail body off the ledge and down to the carpeted flooring of the van below. The mother locked eyes with me as I passed, and as a classic example of the label 'mother', rolled her eyes, shook her head in disgust and uttered a single word to sum up everything she could not comprehend. "Boys."

But boys will be boys. They will set out on and complete grandiose adventures hundreds of times throughout their day, even if it consists of scaling a folded down car seat. But to them it still means something. It fuels them. Stirs something inside of them. It makes them come alive. For boys were created for adventure. They were meant to challenge, push, and dare themselves into accomplishing the unknown and tackle the unforeseen.

As I walked past the mother onto my own blue beauty I smiled because you see something stirred inside of me as I watched that boy. Something awoke. It was in that moment that I was reminded that this next three months isn't just school - it's an adventure. And so as I sat myself down in the grey bucket seat of my beloved car that had become my constant over the past 8 months, I turned the ignition, gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands precisely at 9 and 3, slammed down on the gas pedal, and shouted one word as loud as I could in a high-pitched boyish scream as I raced home to begin packing for my adventure at hand:

"CANNONBALL!!!"