He’s learning how to dry off his six-year old body all by himself. He still doesn’t get it quite right. I notice this only because there are little drops of water on my hardwood floor that lead from the bathroom to my kitchen. He gets easily frustrated when he can’t get his underwear on because his legs are still wet. He also doesn’t quite understand why he has to take a shower each night. Call me crazy but I prefer to wash the Oklahoma red clay and little boy smell of his precious body before he climbs into the sheets I just washed. After he finally realized that it was going to do him no good whatsoever to argue with me about not taking a shower he said, “But you never take a shower!” I was a little caught off guard but quickly realized that in his little mind, I don’t. He’s not up at 6:00 in the morning when I typically take my shower. He doesn’t know that I need to get clean, too. I guess he just thinks I’m never dirty. Or something. This little interaction with him got me to thinking that there are a lot of things he probably doesn’t see me do. He doesn’t know that I pray for him and his brothers every single morning while he is still counting sheep. He doesn’t know that I read my Bible every morning before I do any other tasks on my daily list. He doesn’t know the time I spend helping people out in their time of great need. But he does know how much TV I watch and how often I’m on the computer and how much time I spend playing Word With Friends on my iPhone. Gulp. What appeared to be a unimportant conversation with my son about my not taking showers was actually a gentle nudge from God letting me know that my children are watching me. Very closely.