Precious Gift

This morning, Steve is competing in a Tough Mudder 13 mile obstacle course. Because it's cold (number 1 reason) and it costs $40/person to be a spectator (ridiculous), we are waiting for him to finish and then meeting the entire team at a traditional spot to celebrate Tough Mudder (evidently): Hooters. Awesome. This week has been filled enough with explanations and questions and fears regarding sexual topics. Penn State (and ESPN) have filled my boys' heads with images and concerns and sadness. My family has been consumed by this. The last thing I wanted was another talk about sex. But God had other plans, and I was pleasantly humbled by them.

Jacob (this is predictable) followed me into my room after mass and asked me about Hooters. I described in benign terms what it was like, and the description led to a discussion about Father Tom's homily (while I was trying to go to the bathroom, change my shirt and remove my hose :)). It was, appropriately, about the sanctity of women and marriage and the most precious gift we're given of being man and wife and co-creating life. Jacob loves that stuff. Seriously.

While talking about Hooters, I taught him the "die on a hill" concept. This was not, I explained to him, something I was willing to die over. I could have made the situation difficult for Daddy, created a division when really he wanted some excited support from his family. I guess getting muddy and running through electrical wires and into ice ponds and wading through waist-high mud is something to be celebrated? At any rate, I conceded that we would bring two cars and if Hooters was like Buffalo Wild Wings, I'd take the fat cheeseburger and greasy fries (moral support for Steve's high energy morning). If we thought it didn't feel quite right for the boys, I could politely exit with them.

Jacob then asked (good question) what would be different between Hooters and a place I would die on a hill for. Enter strip club topic. We talked about marriage and respect and love and dignity and protection. . . And for all my verbosity, he was like Occam's razor with his understanding. "Why would a man go to a place where women are treated as objects when he loves his wife (imagine confused, quizzical brows)? Why would they look at naked women and expect their (big emphasis and sarcastic expression) wife to not be naked with anyone but them?" And then he said (he was on a roll), "You know. A strip club is taking our most precious gift and treating it like trash. And people pay to do that? You know what they need to do, Mom? Get. A. Life." Well said, little grasshopper.

I'm going to make a Hummingbird Cake now. God was busy this morning with Jacob.