I love memories that make me laugh

Grace ran in from the playground and interrupted my conversation with several other ladies from the church. I looked down into her flushed, four-year-old face as she paused to catch her breath. “What’s the matter, Grace?”

She blurted, “Mommy! Luke and Katelyn are kissing on the playground.”

“Oh, really? Okay, where are they?” I tried not to laugh. I mean, good grief! They were only two.

Luke and Katelyn met when we moved to Virginia. Only a couple of months had passed since then, but sparks had flown from the moment they first laid eyes on each other. Maybe it had something to do with the fact they’d been born on the same day. Whatever the reason, they were both convinced this was the real deal.

I accompanied Grace to the playground, but the lovebirds had already gone their separate ways. When we got home from church, I took Luke into his room to discuss the matter. Looking down into a face that could have belonged to a two-year-old Michael J. Fox, I began the interrogation.

“Grace said you and Katelyn were kissing on the playground, Luke. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

His expression showed absolutely no remorse. He looked quite happy. I hadn’t expected to be dealing with these issues yet, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“Luke, listen to me. You shouldn’t be kissing Katelyn.”

“Why not?” He looked up at me with the biggest, bluest, sincerest eyes.

“Well, because . . . you should save your lips for the girl you marry.”

He smiled. “I am going to marry her!”

Oh man, I thought. If this is Luke at two, what will we be up against when he’s sixteen?

Several months later, we attended a Christmas service at Thomas Road Baptist Church. (Yes, that would be the Thomas Road Baptist Church pastored by Dr. Jerry Fallwell.) George’s teaching position at Liberty University required our attendance at TRBC. I won’t even go into our views on that issue, because this is a love story. Anyway, every Christmas, all the two and three year olds were marched up on the sanctuary platform with tinsel halos on their heads and jingle bells in their hands. There were about two hundred kids in the group.

Sunday School workers rallied the toddlers in the foyer to line them up for their processional down the long aisles and up the steps to the platform for their performance. At that point, Luke made an executive decision. George and I were already seated in the sanctuary, but Katelyn’s dad was standing nearby and witnessed the whole thing. The Sunday School teacher took Luke by the hand to place him at the front of the line beside Katelyn. Luke said, “I’m not going to go in.”

All women everywhere are born knowing the power of “the look.” Katelyn turned to him, fixed her eyes on his chubby little face, and said, “Luke. If we are going to marry, you have to walk with me.”

Without a word, he took the hand of the teacher and prepared to enter the cavernous room.

George and I watched as Luke and Katelyn led the parade down the aisle, tinsel sparkling on their cherubic little heads. All went well until they reached the steps to the platform. Then Luke’s will kicked in. Katelyn or no Katelyn, he wasn’t going up there to shake a bell and sing in front of a huge crowd of people. He balked and tried to pull free from the teacher, but she had him firmly by the hand. A short scuffle ensued as Luke kicked and scrambled to break away.

We were seated only about ten feet away from Luke’s valiant struggle. George and I hid behind our programs. We were both laughing hard. We didn’t want Luke to see us, because we knew he’d start calling our names. People around us were starting to point at him and whisper and laugh. He really was so cute in his little Sunday suit and halo, holding up the whole line as he fought for freedom on the steps.

Finally, the teacher picked him up and carried him. Katelyn marched obediently to her designated spot on the stage, shook her little bell, and sang with the rest of the darlings. Luke sat in the back of the crowd on the lap of the teacher. If she’d known what he looked like, I’m sure she would have held him lower; but as it was, he could be seen over all the other children. His halo was askew, he never shook his bell once or sang a single note, and his face wore the angriest, most unholy expression imaginable on a two-year-old doll baby. George and I laughed so hard we had tears pouring down our faces.

I guess it should come as no great surprise that things didn’t work out between Luke and Katelyn. They’re still great friends, but hey . . . she laid down the law. He’ll just have to live with his choices.