Who you are

It was Saturday morning and Parker was still in bed. I went in to wake him up so we could go to Hillary's track meet. I lay down beside him and said, close to his ear, "Parker...it's time to get up." He just groaned and turned his head away. "Come on" I said, "I've let you sleep as long as I can. Did you stay up late last night?" Without opening his eyes he said, "Not too late. I watched "How It's Made" and then I watched the weather." I chuckled. What 12 year old stays up to watch the weather? "Well, what's it supposed to be like?" I asked. "It's going to get cooler, then warm up again by the end of the week."
I looked around his room at the posters of airplanes...at his basketball medals he's strung together and nailed to the wall...at the graphic images he's printed off the computer and taped to his door...and I said, "I love who you are."
What I meant was..."I love that you love to practice your trumpet...that you listen to the oldies station...that you are good at video games. I love that you sing in the select choir...that you listen to books on tape...that you wear funky shoes...and that you dance like Micheal Jackson. I love that you say funny, random things at the craziest moments. I love that you are a unique person, who is comfortable in his own skin."
I don't know if he heard all that in that one little sentence, but I think he felt it. And that's all that matters.