Gotcha

It’s Saturday, and the place is hopping with kids and their parents. The arcade is alive with activity, a typical cliché, but what else can I say? That place has everything: a sports bar, two pizza and sandwich kitchens, a bowling alley, a half-dozen pool tables, a huge arcade of insanely fun games and “rides,” and music blaring and rocking until your head’s ready to explode.

It’s my younger son’s favorite place to go, but naturally, it’s expensive. Playing the arcade games requires a card that resembles a credit card, and judging from how much money the boy uses each time I take him there, it might as well be one. Still, in celebration of his adoption, he opts to go there, so that becomes our family tradition, and I pony up and pay out.

We start by playing pool. We all suck at it, but have fun anyway. I start off strong, but on my third turn, accidently sink the 8-ball, and M wins the first game. The second game lasted considerably longer, and C took my turn several times. Eventually, we tired of not finishing and ended our misery. Then it was time for some food before bowling.

I’m lactose intolerant and forgot my Lactaid tablets, so I had to munch on cheeseless crusts–what a joy that was– and some fries to give me enough energy to carry one, while the boys enjoyed yummy pizza. I’ll blame that for my horrible bowling scores. Again, we all played poorly, but we cheered one another on, trash talked when appropriate, and had a good time. I won both games, but not for lack of trying to lose.

The Gotcha Day Boy, M, won several toys from the arcade machines–very proud of himself. He gave one or two to his brother, whose Gotcha Day is in August. They got along well and the love was well expressed between them most of the day.

After bowling, they squeezed the last of my cash from me and returned to the arcade. I found a chair and tuned out the arcade as much as I could. I sensed the weariness of the whole day seeping in. It had begun with trying to sort out stuff at home. Then C and I had gone to the hospital to see his Momma. My wife was the most alert she’s been since being hospitalized almost a month ago for flu pneumonia. She was able to smile at him and interact with me a little, but I could see the worry and fear in her face–concern later verified by her father who was also there at the time. She doesn’t know why she’s there or what’s going on. I happened to see our doctor at the bowling alley, and he said she probably doesn’t even remember going to his office the day she was hospitalized, so she likely has no idea of anything that’s happened.

When C and I got home, flying high from the thrill of the visit, church friends were there to help fix a leaking pipe. The time with them was helpful and encouraging, as always. The upshot, though, was that the fix was temporary, so a long-term repair will be needed. For now, however, our shower is working better, and that’s a relief.

I needed a snooze before we headed out for Gotcha Day fun, and then we finally got going. So here I sat in the arcade, noises buzzing around me, kids running by, and I was buried in my cell phone. Suddenly, I thought, “Don’t be too quick to judge me, folks. You’ve no idea what’s going on in my life. You’ve no idea what a haven of happiness today is in the lives of my kids. These few minutes for me are one of the rare breaks I get from having to be responsible for what they’re doing. They’re sitting five feet from me on their favorite ride, laughing and not worrying about their Momma.”

From there we went to Governor’s restaurant for supper, and then home. M tried out the new shower. I fell asleep in my chair, and C put himself to bed. M followed, after giving me a report of the new showerhead. I stumbled upstairs a little before midnight.

As I fell into bed, I begged God for help.