He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Three or four Pine Siskins were already on the ground, pecking for birdseed.
Blue Jays and Sparrows soon joined in the fun. Even a red, bushy-tailed squirrel tried to get his share.
Hurry up and get dressed. Oops, Scott tripped over his sneakers. Crash! Bang! Why so much noise from a six-year-old?
Mom and dad waited patiently downstairs. Scott banged into the kitchen table. And dad spilt juice on the floor. Two days in a row Scott did this to his father.
But, his dad still loves him.
"Please be more careful," mom says.
Scott gulps down his apple juice. Then chews and swallows every bit of cereal.
Hurry up the School Bus is honking. Faces stare from every window.
He kissed mom and dad goodbye.
Scott slammed the front door and tripped over his two-wheeler. Books and papers fly around like floppy kites.
Everyone on the bus is jumping up and down with laughter. This begins a usual school day for Scott.
But, his mother still loves him.
"Scott! Scott! Tell us some new funny jokes,ā everyone yells. Yes, friends show many smiles when Scott is around.
Someone gives him a can of orange pop. Surprise-Surprise, he didnāt know it was shook up before opening the tab.
"Watch out!" Tim shouts as sticky pop splatters through the air.
"Oops." Scott says.
It was a mean trick. Not everyone laughs and points at his red face.
Heās so excited he falls out of his seat. Slam! Bang! Scott can't stop laughing as he rolls around on the floor.
But, his bus driver still loves him.
At school, lockers are opened then slam-dunk closed. āTalk-to-you-laterā plans are made with friends.
Hurry up and run to the classroom. Homework is checked. Hands lift for answers to teacher questions. They look like waves of wheat from Saskatchewan fields.
"I know! I know!" Scott shouts. It's the same each lesson. He knows the answers because he's really smart. He's like a windmill in full motion. Some say heās more like a runaway train.
"Sometimes, Scott's a pain," a few whisper.
"He's cool," others say.
Finally, the afternoon school bell rings. Scott hurries home for supper. After pork chops and potatoes, thereās time for fun.
Soccer is Scott's favorite game. He can run like a charging buffalo. Or even a tiger on the loose.
His foot smacks the soccer ball with a mighty kick. People everywhere scream with an awesome roar.
āSCORE!ā Cheers are louder than thunderclaps.
Scott runs to his teammate Tim, and pokes him on the shoulder. "Good pass!" he yells.
And the coach loves him.
Now it's nighttime. Shining stars peek through Scottās window. They watch him brush his teeth. Then jump into bed.
Mom's bedtime story is soon finished.
And a tired boy lays his head on a soft pillow. Busy legs finally still.
Now eyelids close, one hand holding tightly to his baseball glove. A Blue Jay cap rests on the floor.
His cat is a ball of black and white fur. All curled up against Scottās arm.
As shadows come like a warm blanket, parents tiptoe to their sleeping son. They watch over him. No more noisy sounds from sleeping Scott.
No more slipping and falling.
No more laughing or running.
Not even scoring goals. Nor being like a grocery bag full of questions.
He has only time for much needed rest. Well, maybe time for a dream or two.
And his parents love him.
* * *
Ā 2011 Richard & Esther Provencher
My wife, Esther and I really enjoy writing. It is an excellent salve, in addition to prayers, a great wife and family during my continuing recovery from a stroke/aneurysm. You can contact us at: firstname.lastname@example.org re comments on our work. We live in Truro, Nova Scotia, Canada. Pray for others.