Watch out, David Blaine

This is Noah, my friend Carrie's son. He and I are birthday buddies, and he'll be two this year on March 18. I like to brag that if Noah would have been a girl (and still born on my birthday, as his parents weren't quite sure if he was going to be a St. Patty's day baby), his middle name would have been Joslyn.

I am convinced that Noah is only as serene as depicted in this photo as he watches one of the slew of Elmo videos available nowadays to those we call our future. Personally, I find Elmo's voice extremely irritating, but if he can keep a kid like Noah calm, then I would proudly hold the title as "The Exclusive Keeper of All Movies Elmo" and charge people to rent them from my collection. In fact, I would have no shame displaying the movies right next to Brad's Lord of the Rings series and Adam Sandler movies. Should we, as a country, be a little disturbed that a child's first word up there with "Mama" and "Dada" is some variation of "Elmo?"

Last Thursday I was privileged to spend quality time with Noah and his mom, and my friend Amanda and her little girl, Litty. Amanda prepared a delightful meal consisting of enchiladas, topped off later by a body-warming dessert of hot fudge pudding. Despite how much I enjoyed being waited on during the meal, this was most definitely not the highlight of the evening. Little did I know that the culmination of the evening spent with my friends and their children would include being a witness to what I would call the "World's Youngest Daredevil Act." I mean, Noah's parents should really consider taking this act on the road. Noah had managed to utilize the empty crate sitting in the living room that once held the toddler toys that were spewed all over the floor, by using it as a platform for his death-defying talent. I sat in curious wonder as I watched this little boy stand on top of the crate, focus oh-so carefully on his target (aka - his mother sitting on the floor beside him, unbeknownst to his actions) and then, with little forewarning - catapult himself onto his mother's lap! The giggles that emerged from this tiny boy were blended with glee at completing the stunt, and mischief as he contemplated his next, and increasingly more life threatening, act. Before long, the boy was dropping himself to the floor with little regard for the possible injury he could incur to himself. After one of his death defying stunts, my friends and I (and Litty, too) waited in silence, expecting to see the miniature stunt man peel himself off the floor, removing embedded toddler toys from his body, and start crying in pain. Not Noah. He simply got up off the floor, laughed at himself, reveling in the applause received by those in his audience.

A toast to Carrie - may your son continue to provide you entertainment and joy, and may he remain in the care of God's grace and protected by angel's wings, because really, I think that's the only way it's going to happen.