My Little Drummer Boy

My boys love music.  I’m sure part of it is because Matt and I love music and are always singing, harmonizing to ridiculous jingles on the radio, and making random objects into instruments.  I can’t help but think the other part of their passion is just in their genes.  They came out that way. 

Our youngest son, Cy, is seventeen months old.  He is a spirited, fun little boy who likes bats, balls, and anything you can hit.  He’s got some aggression.  I often take both boys to the church when our students are meeting so they can hear the live music.  They have a ball dancing around and singing.  From the first time he visited, Cy was mesmerized.  We had to continuously pull him off the stage, and then he finally stood beside us as we all worshipped.  If we raised our hands in worship, he raised his hands too.  Then we noticed something.  He started air-drumming.  On beat.  All the adults started watching him and noticing what he was doing.  Very cool, I thought, in a few years he can take out his aggression on a drum set!  Little did I know, that very thing would send me into one of my ultimate panic moments.

This morning at church was hectic.  Our children’s ministry promoted the kids to their new classrooms, so Matt was dealing with confused parents and crying kids.  He was also in charge of a back-to-school clothes giveaway to take place this afternoon.  After church was over, I picked up the boys from their classes and took them to find Matt so we could say goodbye.  Both boys wanted their dad, so it took a little longer than expected.  Matt was busy, so he just took off with Cy in tow.  I was talking with some other parents with Will at my side.  After several minutes, we went looking for Matt and Cy.  We looked all over and finally found Matt on the opposite end of the church… without Cy.  I felt my heart rate rise.

“Where’s Cy?”  I said quickly.

“I don’t know.”  He said, my stomach falling ten stories.

“You don’t have him?”

“No, I never did.”

And with that, I felt my heart jump into my throat, and I started sprinting, yelling for Will to run with me.  We ran back to the other building, where Matt had been with Cy.  I saw some students in the hall and asked them breathlessly to help me find him.  I’m sure they saw the sheer terror on my face and started looking immediately.  I knew we were at church, and I “shouldn’t” be worried.  But even if there were no crazies lurking around the corner ready to take my child, he’s only SEVENTEEN MONTHS OLD.  He was probably finding something metal to stick into an outlet as I ran to find him.  I turned the last corner and threw open the doors.  There was my child, in the very room I had brought him to so many times before to hear the music, playing the drums with a smile only matched in size by my own when I saw his face.

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