KevinChilds.com

I remember the night in another town when my son, Judson, sat in my truck trying valiantly not to cry.  He was probably no older than 10 at the time.  It was after Wednesday night church, and another kid’s mother had scolded him (and ratted on him) for hitting her son.  Never mind that her son was a couple of years older and 50 pounds heavier.  She found me, and said, “I’m so disappointed in both our boys!  They came to blows during the activity time in the gym.” I was dumbfounded.  MY son?  Josiah wouldn’t have wasted the time.  Haddon isn’t the type to hit a younger kid.   Who and when, ma’am?   “Judson.”  JUDSON?  Are you sure?

So Judson and I met in the truck.  Jud has always been relatively quiet, but he blurted out: “He stole the football-and shoved me- and the teacher didn’t do anything -and when I got it back later, he came for it – and when I threw it to somebody else, he pushed me down and laid on me and hit me …  so … (deep breath) I hit him in the face.”

You hit that kid in the face?  (Now, with lip quivering and jaw clenched) “Yes sir.”  So I reached across the truck, shook his hand, and told him a man has to stand up for himself.   And furthermore, if any other older, bigger kid ever lays on you pinning you to the floor again, hit him anywhere available.  And I’ll take care of the fall-out.

The episode epitomized Judson Childs.  He tried to avoid trouble.  He told the truth.  He acted like a man.  Today is his 17th birthday, and this is going to sound REEEEALLY sappy, but here it is:  May all your kids be like Judson. I honestly cannot ever remember being mad at him or catching him in a lie.  He gets along with everybody.  Hannah was our first child, and a miracle.  Josiah, the first boy.  Evan and Haddon enjoyed the novelty of twindom.  Ian is the baby.  Jud’s just Jud … uniquely Jud, and that is fine with him.  And me.

My only issue with Jud has been his brain.  I think he may be smarter than me, by a lot.  He is likely the sharpest intellectual knife in our drawer.  You know how adults sometimes make adult-level humorous remarks because the kids in the room wouldn’t understand them?  We’ve never been able to do so with Jud in the room.  He always got it.  I’ve caught him trying to hide a little smirk 1000 times when kids weren’t supposed to be listening – let alone understanding.

On Sunday I am going to make the point that generosity is directly proportional to how much we love.  That’s why, later today, for Jud’s birthday, I’m going to shell out more money than I can afford on a new set of truck tires he picked out.

Just because he’s Jud.