This post is dedicated to my middle child, my second son, my Cody. I woke up this morning and before getting out of bed, I looked at JT and said, "I wonder what mischief will befall us this day?" (We have been watching Poirot and Miss Marple...[insert appropriate accent here] a spot of British mysteries lately). Anyway, lately it seems there is quite a bit of mischief befalling us and yesterday's mischief basket was overflowing.
I pulled into the driveway after finishing my morning walk and saw Cody's car. Immediately both apprehension and happiness flowed through me. I love it when Cody drops in but at the same time it means there will be lots noogies, wedgies, hynie swats, scare-Mom-to-death yells, air boxing centimeters from my nose...I could go on but you get the picture. I love Cody visits but a part of me (the worn out part) is happy to see him go.
Within minutes of greeting him, he drops a bombshell (pun intended)...our 25 year old son has enlisted in the Air Force. We thought he had settled in to a life of graphic artistry. We thought wrong. We forgot that our Cody has always been great at throwing curve balls and marching to different drum beats.
We are proud. You will serve your country well. March well, Code, and throw hard.