Today was David's last Ward Primary program. All the little tinky's in the ward get up and class by class say their spoken word part and sing these great little primary songs. Watching Brigham was exhilarating because he would try so hard and you didn't know what would come out. Mackay, would generally read his part more fluidly that the teacher who put it on the paper for him. And in each the thrill was palpable as a parent.
But today was a little bit different. We still felt the anxiety. We still craned our necks to see if we could catch his eye every so often, but knowing this was our last primary program that our children would participate in made it feel a bit different. Our boys are growing up. I am terribly happy to see that and just a touch sad too. It's a simple joy in life to see your child follow a teacher up in front of the entire ward and have the courage to speak into a microphone. Then, and this is usually more difficult to accomplish, have the wherewithal to not sing a song into the microphone afterward.
As he stood up on deck to the microphone I made eye contact. I first put my hands into the shape of a heart and then pointed at him. He smiled and felt warm all over. Then I pointed to me with my thumb, took my two hands together and rotated the wrists down in a breaking motion and pointed to him again, with a short two fingers held up. Just so he'd know what would happen to him if he screwed up and defamed the family name.
Mackay's season ended yesterday to a really good Westlake team. Brigham's will go on for another week. He got to play a series at the end of the game and almost sacked the quarterback. He is a hustler.
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