Of all the surprises I can imagine, I wasn't ready for the one tonight. My children are listening to me.
I don't say it sarcastically; they really are repeating many things I've said.
We pray every night at bedtime. Most nights, the prayer follows a fairly standard formula of thanking God for the day, for giving us what we need, for life, and we pray for safety, then add in special requests for ourselves or people we know.
Some nights, the prayers seem rote; sometimes they're given begrudgingly.
Tonight, though, I could tell my children were completely sincere in thanking God for all they had, for being able to live, for having all we need.
They showed thanks even for a different furniture arrangement that better suited both of them in their bedrooms.
They were thankful for each other and for mommy and daddy.
They used many of the same phrases that Kris and I have often used in prayer.
I'm a mix of almost-tears (of happiness), pride in them, and humility at the great responsibility parenting is.
They really do listen.
I feel so hopeful, and I see the need, yet again, to be careful what I say and how I say it, and to make sure my actions match my speech. They pick up on everything.