I have some really great discussions with teenage boys about some really deep topics.
This was last night:
If you swallow a guitar pick, how long will it take before you poop it out. Andrew did not want to partake in the solving of this theory. He's much too practical to purposely swallow a guitar pick for my own personal study.
That somehow led into this conversation:
If you swallow one of those little pills that turn into a sponge, will it ever make it's way back out? One boy was certain that stomach acids would break it down. The other felt like it wouldn't fully. I think it would be too much for your system and you would need medical assistance to help it "pass." We debated the stomach acid issue for a bit-I thought this was an easy one to safely test by just getting the little pill, opening it up and then puking on it. Nobody wanted to be the one to puke on it. Oh, and we don't have one of those on hand anyway, but if we did, nobody wanted to puke on it.
And then one of the boys, who had JUST arrived, spent a significant amount of time in the bathroom and the entire house smelled like the depths of the underworld for at least an hour. I yelled at him, hes not my son, but I think I have the right to yell at someone who ruins my house. The first thing I yelled was: WHAT DO YOU EAT!!!!!!!!!
I had to make an unnecessary trip to the store to give my lungs oxygen.
Boys are disgusting.
HOWEVER - and on a much more pleasant note:
I ran into the sweet little old lady at the store who I've talked about before. Her name is Selma and she can be seen all around a 3-city area, walking walking walking walking and usually carrying a few extra-large bags of aluminum cans. So last night I saw her, but I have never seen her that late at night before. I parked and walked over and said hello to her and we made a little small talk and then she asked me where I lived. After I told her, she said she was just asking to see if I was going her way because she was looking for a ride home. I told her I had to run inside and get a few things but I would give her a ride.
She's just a sweet little old lady.
Though when I pulled up to her after I had gone shopping and she put two of her four bags in the trunk but said she would hold the other two-I did have a flash of thought that she might try to knife me while I was driving. She might look old and feeble, but sometimes old people have lots of strength and move really fast! And THEN-she was giving me directions to her destination and it was totally a back way, through the woods, on a dark and deserted road with little to no traffic. And I again thought that she might knife me.
She's really sweet though and didn't knife me. That was nice.
I found out that she lives with a daughter and she mentioned she has grandkids and I said, that's great, you have grandbabies! And she said....well, they are no babies-they are 40. And I know that in most circumstances you don't ask this type of question, but I blurted out, "Selma! How old are you??!!"
And she said: 94!!! She's 94 and she walks miles and miles and miles all day every day, picking up stray cans and whatnot. And I just adore her. We had a great little conversation on the 12-minute drive where I could have been shanked and I just love her. I hope to have the chance to talk again with her.
Everybody can be great...Because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace - A soul generated by love.