Dream Job!

On Sunday I saw Caleb was out in the backyard doing something. He was wearing a dress shirt, and had a bell and some index cards and a pen. He would poke his head in the door and call his brothers one at a time to come outside with him. After a while, I couldn't resist going out to ask him what he was up to.

He said, "I'm doing my dream job."

"Really?" I asked. "What is your dream job, Caleb?"

He dinged the bell and called, "Who's next?"

I guess I was, so I joined him at his make-shift desk in his "office".

Then he asked the question of his profession "Who do you love?"

That was his dream job, asking and recording what and who people love - kind of like a census worker of love, I guess, or one of those angels we've heard about above us, looking down on us, recording all the good we do each day.

He showed me his notes. In the top corner were the initials and ages of the interviewee - I suppose to keep the survey participants anonymous. I assume the the one on top (N.N. 13) is Nathan, who happens to be the only 13 year old in the house. I think Caleb got the initials from the sounds of the name: N.N. = Nath-aN, D.N. = Dyl-aN.

Nathan's card translates: He loves mom. He loves to play with the D.S.

Dylan's says: He loves Mom and Dad and his piano.

SO cute.

So that is his dream job. If you think about it, how great a job would that be? I mean, how nice to talk to people all day about the things they love! No stress, no pressure. You'd come home each day all buoyed up by all those happy thoughts! Of course, it would be hard not to take the job home with you, but I could live with that. I think that might be my dream job too!

So I decided to participate in the love census survey. He rang the bell, asked me what I loved, and I started in on my long list of everything I love so much - my family, my country, my God, chocolate... He listened carefully to everything I said, but didn't write down a thing. Finally, I asked him if he needed to write down my response. He said no, and reached for a manila folder with the word "Mom" printed carefully on the tab.

"I already did," he said. Inside of the folder was a pink index card with the initials M.M. in the corner.

On it he had written, She love us. She love her iPhone.

That just about sums it up, I guess, doesn't it? Well, except for just one thing - I also love 6 year olds!