Morning Glory

Jack Henry is at the age where he asks lots of questions. "How many Rhode Islands could fit on the moon?" "How many earths could fit in Jupiter?" "Did OU win the very first game they ever played?" "Is the sun so bright because it is the biggest star or because it is the closest star?" "What do my lungs look like?" Some of these I can answer. Lots of them I can't.

And he is still at the age where he gets his wording mixed up and I don't correct him because it's so cute. He'll ask, "Mom, did you get another pack of milk at the store?" Or, when told that we don't have any cookies left over from last night, he asked, "Well, do we have any cookie sauce left?" There's no way I'm going to tell him it's called cookie dough.

Sometimes these questions come early in the morning before I've even opened my eyes. Last Saturday morning he came in and asked, "Mom, are you sure you don't know how many oceans could fit on Pluto?"

This morning I was awakened by a soft voice asking me, "Mom, what is going to be your favorite thing about today?"

"I don't know," I said, still waking up. "Today hasn't started."

"Well, what do you think it's going to be?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "What is yours going to be?"

"Playing with Lincoln or Mary Margaret," he quickly replied, sure of what the day had in store for him. As he rambled on about what they might play, I lay there thinking, "My favorite part of the day is right here, right now, with Jack Henry, already bright and smiling and ready to start his day waking me up with his eager questions and conversation." If only every day could start like this.