the best buddhist

My husband and I joke that if there was a sitcom about our life it would be called "The Worst Buddhists." I'm very attached to things. I struggle with the world as it is. Etc. What cracks me up is that Martin is - in some respects - the best little Buddhist. He lives in a sort of eternal now.

For instance, last night I was talking to my spouse about taking a trip to see friends in Durham, NC. We discussed going there sometime between now and Christmas. Martin whipped around from his bedtime snack and said, "Can I go with you?" He gobbled down his snack. He headed for the garage. He got in the car. He was ready to go to Durham RIGHT NOW.

We spend a lot of time trying to figure out when we should reveal things to Martin. When do we tell him that we're going to Croatia for two weeks and he's staying home? When do we tell him that summer vacation is at hand and there will be no more school? For Martin, having a birthday means it's going to keep being his birthday. Vacation Bible School should be everyday. Weekends make no sense whatsoever. Why would you need a break from your week, from the routines that make life meaningful?

Really, he's got a little good Buddhist in him, but also a little of the worst. He, too, wants the world to go his way. All the time. And I guess that's what makes him my kid.