Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Hey Purple, Hey Gold

My son is a cheerleader.

I never thought I'd say that. Since his father was not a cheerleader, I guess that means he takes after me. Although, seeing as my stint as a cheerleader lasted all of one basketball season, I'm not sure it really counts. It might have lasted longer but Jenny and Teesha, the seasoned, older, more beautiful and more popular girls on the squad, made it very clear that only beautiful and popular girls like themselves were allowed to be cheerleaders and I didn't qualify.

Maybe if the school colors hadn't been purple and gold Jenny and Teesha would have given me more of a chance. Apparently you needed natural beauty and popularity like theirs to look good in that combination.

Then again, maybe not. Some things are just not meant to be.

I should point out that Jesse begs to differ with my opening statement because even though he practices with the cheerleaders, he's quick to point out that he's the mascot. He tries to tell me that he's going to mascot practice, but I know better. If you're walking into the school behind 30 pony-tailed and identically beribboned blondes, I think the majority wins - it's cheerleading practice.

But cheerleader or not, I'm proud of my son. A freshman as mascot is pretty cool. And if God wants us to use all of our gifts for Him, then Jesse has no choice but to put all of his entertaining to good use. Underneath the fur of a wildcat is a good start; it's better than acting up as class clown.

And that's not all. I know my prayers have been answered and my boy is letting his light shine everywhere he goes, even to his newfound blonde and beribboned friends.

Take today for instance. Jesse's ever-vigilant older brother (brother's keeper, you might say) came home from cross country practice (which of course ends half an hour before cheerleading practice, thus making these parents drive to the school twice during supper) to report that he witnessed Jesse's light-bearing himself. As Jesse and his buddies were walking down the hall, they came upon a cheerleader and her boyfriend in a loving embrace. My self-appointed light-bearing, anti-dating policeman proclaimed, "Red Rover, Red Rover, the purpling is over," and pushed his way between the two lovebirds.

He not only makes his mother proud, but his former counselors at Camp Hebron, authors of the "Girls are red, Guys are blue, No purpling" campaign should be happy that their message goes beyond church camp. And his youth pastor, author of the ever-popular and widely quoted dating flow-chart, should be grateful that Jesse not only took the message to heart for himself but he is taking the word to the byways and hallways of the public high school. That's MY boy.

But really, how could the lone male amidst 30 beautiful and popular (just ask Jenny and Teesha) females be anything but a light?

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