Pretending: homeschooling in love 1


 I like to pretend. 
 Every trip to the post office, every trip across country—it doesn’t matter where I go—I like to pretend I am on a mission.
 My wife Karen doesn’t like to join my team, or army, or panzer group—even when I offer her a lieutenancy. Of course I am always the captain, but that is incidental.
Karen just frowns at me.
 “Look to the South, Good Buddy,” I warn.  “The Nazis are coming fast . . .”
 “Keep your eyes on the road Jim,” she scolds.
 “10-4,” I respond as I pull the Tiger Tank (aka Toyota Prius) back to the center of the road.
 How about you?
 Why not make a mundane trip to the grocery store into a mission behind enemy lines? Why not make a trip to church into a scouting mission across the Sahara?
 Life is interesting enough, I suppose, without all the pretending  but it is never as much fun.
 My  7 year old grandson Zion will pretend with me.
 Last Christmas high command gave us a mission to take important orders to Second Army (i.e., Karen told me to take a letter to our mail box at the end of our 150 yard driveway.) Brave Master Sergeant Zion (AKA my grandson) volunteered to join me.
 “General Granna (i.e., Karen),” I warned.  “Do not be surprised if we don’t make it back alive.  My will is in the safe deposit box”
 “Don’t miss the postman, Jim,” Karen responded.
 “Yes mame,” I deferentially responded. “10-4.”

Comments are closed.