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Wednesday, June 4, 2008

God’s Gift To My Son: His Goofy Sense Of Humor

photo by Fran-cis-ca

One of the wonderful aspects of discipling our children is helping them discover their gifts and talents. Oftentimes we as parents figure them out before our children ever do. We then have the task of convincing our child that he really has this special innate ability and should spend time developing it.

However, if their vision is set on being the next great American Idol winner or that their throwing arm is good enough to guarantee a future spot in the Hall of Fame, parental persuasion sounds dubious at best. The child, after all, knows what he knows and we’re just dumb parents.

My thirteen year old son thinks he will be the next Shigeru Miyamoto. For those of you in the dark, Miyamoto is the design genius behind Nintendo’s Mario Brothers and Donkey Kong. My son is convinced he has what it takes to design great video games. He, and every other young teen boy out there.

I don’t think that’s where his gifts lie, though. I’ve tried motivating him toward computer programming, computer design and storyboard layouts, but it’s not taking with him. What he likes to do is take familiar characters and write them into humorous and often satirical stories. He’s a very good humor writer. And his sense of humor is developing quite quickly.

We spent yesterday afternoon at our old house preparing it for rental. We got one of those Rug Doctor machines and I went to fill a pitcher with hot water to begin shampooing the carpets. No hot water. Turned out our basement had flooded again (Lord, when will the challenges end?) and snuffed out the hot water heater.

Armed with a flashlight and one of those long lighters, I headed for the great unknown. I yelled over my shoulder, “Say a prayer, guys.”

My son, my precious goofball of a son, began intoning grace. “Thank you, Father, for this food….”
“Not that prayer!”

So somehow I’m supposed to help him realize his goofiness, I mean giftedness, and help him develop it into something that brings glory to God. Can the Christian publishing world use a thirteen year old writer of sardonic wit, and can I survive the challenge?
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