Mrs. Coffee

This is one of those stories that makes you think parenthood is something you really should get a college degree in first.

When we visited my Grandma several weeks ago, the biggest treasure Joshua found - hands down - was this very large and beautiful snail. It was unlike anything that had ever been discovered in the Banks backyard. The result: a fast, hard bond between boy and gastropod.

 

We brought it home to my Mom's house and got him all squared away in a nice little habitat. Josh foraged Grammy's produce drawer in the fridge and set up a banquet for the snail in an airy, moist, roomy container. He seemed very happy that first night when we all went to bed. The next morning, however, a good chunk of spinach was gone but so was the snail. A quick survey of the kitchen counter (where our container was) did not give up the slimy guy, nor any evidence of him. A very upset and anxious Joshua ensued. I tried to explain that he couldn't have gone far, they're not very fast you know, and we would surely find him. Honestly, I secretly worried too, but I couldn't deal with it before my first cup of coffee, so I pulled out the pot from against the wall and started to brew some up. "Aahhh!" I heard Josh scream in delight. Happily climbing up the back of the coffee-maker was our silly snail. What a blessing it turned out to be that Mommy so desperately needs her coffee in the morning! All was well again and now we also had a name for the little guy -- Mr. Coffee.

Over the next few days, Josh faithfully fed and watered Mr. Coffee. He got him out and played with him, letting him crawl all over his hands and arms. Even my Mom's dog, Maggie, kinda liked him.

 

Now here's where a lack of good judgement begins. The day we're to fly home, Josh asks if we can take Mr. Coffee home with us. "Sure!", I say. We can fix him up in the suitcase, no problem. I could blame that thought process on the fact that my mind was in 100 different directions (which it was), but, as my good friend's pilot husband later put it, "What did you think would happen at 30,000 feet in a non-pressurized compartment?" Oh. I'll tell you what happened. After a day of flying all over the place and then losing our luggage for another 24 hours, what happened was the most tragic sight a boy in love with his snail could ever see. I won't even describe it to you. Joshua was unconsolably crying, I was wanting to take a little trip myself in an un-pressurized cabin, and Greg (bless his heart) was pitifully trying to "revive" Mr. Coffee. I don't know if it was for show for a grieving son or if he just needed to alleviate his own disappointment, but he set him in the dirt, misted him with a spray bottle, and massaged his twisted body. Can you picture it? Now that scene is funny to me, but I assure you, it WASN'T at the time!

Joshua went to bed weeping that night. He talked about how Jesus raised himself from the dead -- wouldn't he raise his snail? Could we please pray for a miracle? Well, I pulled it together and we prayed -- for a miracle. It broke my heart in two as I left his room. I felt so guilty. What was I thinking? I prayed, "God please, intervene somehow. Don't let my lack of judgement be a hindrance to Joshua's faith in you. Would you please make this right and show Yourself to Josh?"

He did. More later.:)