I backed out of the driveway, taking them to school with a smattering of mismatched mittens and library books.

“Who is going to pray for our day today?”

“I will!”

“No!  I will!”

“Guys, you both can.”

“Okay, but I’m going first.”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Tyler, you can go first.”

“Dear God, thank you for our food, and help us to have a really bad day.  Amen.”

“Why would you pray for a bad day?”

“Tucker told me to.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“That doesn’t really sound like something Tucker would ask you to do.  And, you’re in charge of yourself anyway.”

“Can I try again?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s my turn now.  He already prayed.” A strong point.  Plus, the commute to school lasts roughly three and a half minutes.

“Tyler, let’s let Tucker pray now.  Then you can pray again.”

“Dear Jesus.  Please let us have a really great day, and thank you for my mommy and my brother and my daddy and the snow, and please die on the cross again and again.  Amen.”

Mental note: When time allows, teach boys that the crucifixion was a one-time gig.

“Tyler, do you have anything else to add?”

“Yes.  Dear God.  Thank you for today.  And please let the joy come out all day long.”

Now that is a great thing to add.  And this explains a lot about my sweet celebration of a second born, if this is his morning prayer.

I prayed next, closing the morning commute with prayers on behalf of the many teachers who need heaps of patience and wisdom to make a day like today come together with any positive outcomes.  I thanked God for smart boys and good friends and healthy lunches and good choices.  Amen.

“Thanks for praying, guys. I like when we start the day that way.”

“We should always start the day that way, Mommy.”

“And I should always go first.”

“No!  I will!”

Aaaaaannd…. commute complete.

Seatbelt off, and out goes the tall one, running to catch up with his friends.

Blessings on your head, buddy.

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