I just sent a desperate call to my sister-in-law begging for a safe topic for this weeks writing exercise. But at this point she has failed to supply something and so I must plunge on. To enjoy her version of our writing exercise please click here. And if you feel little sparks of creative instability flitting about within your cranium this morning, by all means please post your own addition to our writing exercise in the comments. Ok then, here goes nothing. Today’s writing topic will be…um…uh…hmmmmmmmm…

Deep Truths in Non-Deep Media

Enjoy.

Deep Truths in Non-Deep Media

The Hunky Hubby and I were watching a full length film together in our cozy living space the other day, a rare rare occurrence since 2 hours placed consecutively are difficult to dig up for parents of 3, and I was struck by one particular scene. The movie was “Casino Royal” starring the ever adventurous James Bond. And as you have probably guessed, there were few moments of deep introspection to be had. Shooting, yes. Running, yes. Explosions, yes. Slinky dresses, yes. Murder, yes. Cleavage, yes. Car chases, of course. But there was one scene that has stayed with me.

In preparation for gambling millions of Great Britain’s dollars in a high stakes poker game, James Bond has just spent an unusual amount of time primping. His tux is perfect and then there was a bit of shooting and death and 007 returns to find his beautiful female spy partner person having a panic attack after witnessing the aforementioned blood and guts. She is sitting in the shower fully clothed, crying, trying to get rid of the blood. Instead of the obvious James Bond solution. (Toss off clothes and use her mental instability to get her in bed.) He goes and sits down beside her. Despite all of the primping and talk of how he must look like a professional gambler, he lets the shower destroy his tailored tux and simply hugs her. No kissing. No seduction. Just a hug.

And then I realized. As a parent, how often do I make it obvious by my actions that my boys are more important than all of those items on my list to do? How often do I disregard what I should do and look to their needs right now, right when they need me? Not 1 minute from now after I clean the cutting board, or after I put away one stack of laundry, or after I rinse and replace the dishrag. Or…cough cough… after I finish one page in my book.  How often do I drop everything and take them into my arms. How often do I show them they are my treasures. Sure I tell them. It’s nice to hear that you rank above the dishes, but when your Mom leaves the dishwasher open to hug and kiss you right as the tears come. Then you see it. So often I find myself saying “Just a minute.” But even James Bond knows that sometimes what makes sense is not the way to show someone that they are loved. I guess I have a lot to learn.