"Shiver Me Timbers!"

Little Squirt gets infuriated with me just about every 30 days, and it really isn’t my fault. On the last Friday of every month since the school year began, he enters my car at the end of the day and rants and raves about how disappointed he was that I was not the Mystery Reader for his classroom. Then he pouts all the way home and tells me that I took his heart and broke it into a million pieces. He’s a Drama King and ought to write poetry.

Today, unbeknownst to him, was my month to be the Mystery Reader. I laboriously searched this week through his countless books to find just the right one to read. One of his favorites, a book about pirates, caught my eye. And because I am an overachieving perfectionist, I put together 20 little bags filled with “pirate loot” such as maps, eye patches, gold coins and candy for all the students.

Oddly enough, I was a tad bit nervous about this reading. Go figure. I am on a Drama Team and can very comfortably perform in front of a large group of adults with a minimum number of butterflies. But I wanted to do this right and make Little Squirt proud.

I waited outside the doorway of his classroom while his teacher made all the children close their eyes in preparation for my entrance. “On the count of three you may open you eyes and see who the Mystery Reader is,” the teacher said. One…two…three!” I came into the room to face 20 pairs of bright youthful eyes. The owner of a pair of big brown ones shrieked in delight, “Mommy!!” My little boy ran over and gave me a hug, then proudly took my hand and directed me toward the reading chair. I sat down, read the book slowly in my finest dramatic fashion, and then passed out the pirate loot bags. They were quite a hit, as I guessed they would be. Kids love unexpected gifts.

I then treated Little Squirt to a lunch out at a restaurant of his choice. I asked him to say the meal blessing, in which he thanked God that his mommy was the Mystery Reader, and then asked that God would protect his siblings from ninjas on their way home from school. And over bites of chicken rings and cheese fries, he told me this was one of the best days of his life.

These Glorious Moment Feasts of parenting. I treasure them. I truly do. I savor them, relish them, and store them in my heart for those times of Glorious Moment Famine. Because those days do come when I feel like I’ve messed up and missed the boat, and the moments we share aren’t pretty. But today was a Feast day. A Glorious Moment Feast. I am so very grateful.