Anything Your Kid Can Do...

     …Someone else’s can do better.

     If you haven't seen the Brian Regan sketch on “Me Monster” then click the word "Me Monster" and watch it. A “Me Monster” is someone that can hear any story and one up you. For example, I might tell someone about the time I had dessert with Brian Houston at Hillsong. Then “Me Monster” would pipe up with how they didn’t just have dessert with him, but went golfing with him afterwards, carried his clubs, and hit a hole-in-one on hole nine, which was a par 5 hole. To note, I have no clue if Brian Houston even golf’s.

     When I became a dad, people would ask about what milestone Frankie was at. If she was crawling, talking, drooling, walking, had teeth, making model airplanes, solving world hunger, operating brain surgery, etc. What I didn’t know was that having a child was an unannounced competition.

One example is people would ask how much Frankie weighs to which I would reply with her current weight. But every once in a while someone would then tell me how their kid weighed that much in the first trimester, was born with three teeth, studying advanced quantum physics by three months, corrected Einstein’s theory of relativity at four months, and is fluent in English, Latin, Hebrew, and Arabic by six months.

After I was astounded with their child’s progression in life I began to wonder what was going on. Especially when I realized this was more common then I thought it should be. There can’t be that many children in this world who are walking at three weeks old and getting their doctorate in linguistic studies by nine months.

No longer was competition just at work, home, or school, but with our kids as well. I’ll be honest; I’m not a huge fan. I am not worried or concerned with how my child compares to yours. Kids are just as different from one another in a family, let alone in our whole world. If your kid picks its nose and eats the bugger before mine, then God bless you and that salty treat.

Some might say, wow, your kid must not be progressing as well as she should be. Wrong. She is doing far better then I could hope or dream; I just don’t care about competing because it’s not healthy for the kids. No matter what my child’s progress is, I think they are beautifully and wonderfully made and I won’t be dismayed, my dear friend. That last line is inspired from Pigeon John and the book of Psalms, if you wondered.

I've Lost My Cell Phone

       Cell phones can do almost anything. I am still looking for the app that washes my car, mows my lawn, or gives me the ability to hear people’s thoughts. What? You haven’t wanted the app to hear people’s thoughts? It would make my communication so much better. So many times I think I have said something and realize I only thought it and never said it out loud. Dolphins one up us in that field.

     I remember when cell phones were used only for phone calls. I bought my first cell phone during my freshman year of college. When I was in High School very few people had cell phones. Now kids in elementary school have iPhones. At our life group, a couples one and a half year old knows how to unlock her parents iPhone and scroll for apps. Amazing if you ask me.

           The problem with our cell phones being a computer in our pocket is we now use it for everything. Well, almost everything. I use it for note taking, sending e-mails, sending text messages, making phone calls, running my calendar, playing games, using the Internet, taking pictures, and a plethora of other apps that make life easier or entertaining.

     This is great until you lose your phone. Has this ever happened to you? You set your phone down to do something, move on, and forget that you set down your left side of the brain.

     One day, I am working at my desk talking with a fellow worker. While we’re talking we realize we need to plan a meeting with other people, so I look for my calendar to find a time that works. I live by the calendar on my phone. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. Not in my pocket, not in my coat pocket, not on my desk, not on the ground. It was not in my chair, thinking it slipped out of my pocket. Walked down to my car, and it was not there either. I even checked other locations that I worked at around the building.

            Suddenly to my dismay, I feel warmth on my face; I am talking to this person on my phone. My calendar has been pressed to my ear for the last 10 minutes of my search.

     At that moment I realize my life, which I thought was simple, was far too complicated.

     I’d like to say that has been the only time I’ve done that, but it’s not.