So, for a kid, what is the worst time of the year to get sick? Yep. Christmastime. My oldest, Neal, apparently has strep. Fun. NOT!! Poor guy. I hate it for him since he has been “practicing” every Sunday to play bells tomorrow, Christmas Eve, at the Gwinnett Arena for our church’s epic Christmas Eve service. Hang in there, buddy. Daddy loves you and hopes you feel better soon.

I can’t tell you how proud I am, as a dad, of my son Neal. I’m proud of both Neal and Eli, but with this picture, I’m especially happy. Neal isn’t the most cooperative when it comes to smiling for the camera. When I saw this today, I just got so excited at how he was naturally smiling at the camera. He’s so fun and I’m so glad I get to be his dad.

We’re headed out tomorrow for his first camping trip this weekend. We’re headed to Vogel State Park, up near Blairsville, GA. They are having a fall festival at the park on Saturday. There will be hay-rides, a chili dinner, a bonfire with a storyteller and plenty of father-son bonding. It’s about making memories. Make sure you take some time to make those memories today.

I’m taking the camera and will be taking lots, and lots, of pictures. I’ll be posting them sometime next week when I get the time. Be watching for them.

He and I had recently made a trip to the new Kyoto Japanese restaurant in the “new” Kroger shopping center to get Mommy some take out one night. Neal watched, from afar, in wide-eyed wonder at the hibachi masters as they worked magic with spatulas, eggs and fire. I asked him if he wanted to get closer so he could see better, but he was content to observe from a distance. I then asked him if he would want to come back some time so we could sit at the table and watch them better. He silently nodded, still staring at the flames shooting out of the onion volcano. So tonight was the night.

I’ve never been so proud of my boy as I was tonight. I watched him eat, using chopsticks no less, some of everything put on his plate. He turned his soup bowl up and drank it down like nobody’s business. He ate mushrooms, broccoli, zucchini, rice, more rice and shrimp. He clapped at the onion volcano and said thank you when his food was placed on his plate. He said thanks and bye to the lady who collected our money and the nice Mr. Ben, whom he remembered from the last time we were there.

We walked out to the car and got in and we both told him how proud we were that he was our son. I asked him if he liked the Japanese. He nodded that slow and steady nod that was purposeful, yet sleepy. We pulled out of the parking lot and within three minutes he was zonked.

That’s my boy.