Category: a letter

Josh’s Last Day Out

Today was Josh’s last day of work at the shop. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t crazy-excited that I get to spend every hour of every day from here on out traveling the country, raising the boys, and just generally being gypsy-pirates with the guy I love, but I wouldn’t be able to do any of that if God hadn’t put Tom and Kelly in our lives. They gave Josh a job when we moved back to Missouri, tipped us off about what would become our house, gave us the resources to renovate it, introduced us to the Crossing which would eventually become our church home, took us on countless adventures, and encouraged us every day by example to become better people. We wouldn’t be where we are now without them. This dream would not have been possible without them.

When you look at it like that, saying something like “Thank you” feels pretty lame.

Tom, Kelly, Grant, we love you guys like family and we’re going to miss you. We thank God for you all every day, and pray that He blesses you as much as you’ve blessed us over the last six years. Thank you.

A Look into the Future

First of all, I’d like to start out by mentioning that this post is dedicated to Tom Marshall, who actually reads this blog. Thanks, Tom.

Despite agreeing that I should post more frequently, I’m going to phone this one in and post an email I sent to one of my Pratt friends during the Ozark trip the Marshalls took Josh and I on. One of the evenings–I think the day we went tubing and later the guys went wake boarding–Josh was really tired, so he went to bed early.

Hi Kensey,

I just wanted to tell someone what I was doing. I’m sitting here in the condo Josh’s boss rented for vacation talking to two 13 year old boys (Grant and Destin) who are obsessed with X-box and gangs and listening to Oak scream because he doesn’t want to go to sleep. Too bad. Josh and Bear are asleep and it’s past Oak’s bedtime.
Grant and Destin keep asking me question about the gangs of Brooklyn. The questions have veered from easily answerable things I could have observed while there to things I could only know if I was in the gang, so I’ve started making up answers.
I had forgotten how awkward and weird teenage boys are. They just told me that they recently shot a squirrel, cut it open, and ate the heart.
“How did it taste?” I asked.
“Like a salty loogie,” Grant said.
“That’s actually a really good description,” Destin said.
Now I’m talking about comic books and retards and leaving various dairy products in our rooms and finding them weeks later. And the best thing about it is they don’t care that I’m typing this to you while they talk or I answer.* I thought I was going to be really mad at Josh for falling asleep and leaving me to talk to his boss’s kid and friend, but I’m having a great time. This is the future we have in store, Kensey: awkward, weird, funny teenage boys.
I hope your night is going as well.

*”Kids” these days just assume whoever they’re talking to is doing at least one other thing on their mobile device or computer (or computer mobile device). I know that really makes some people mad, but what it indicates about how our culture is shifting with the new generation fascinates me. That’s another post, though.

Hanging out with Grant and Destin was one of my favorite memories from the Ozark trip. I was in Brooklyn while my brother was going through those walking-the-line-between-awkward-and-funny, personality-growing years, so this was my first opportunity to observe thirteen-year-old boys in the wild. I got some insight into the mind of an early teenage boy and a look into my and Kensey’s future with our sons.

I wonder what our boys will kill and eat.

Note to Self

Remember how, when Oak was first born, he screamed and screamed whenever you were trying to change his diaper?  I miss that.  Now he’s constantly trying to escape, and he’s pretty good at it.  Must be the 1/16th Hitler in him.