It has come to my attention that I am exhausted. Not just a little exhausted, but that kind of "I think I'd like to just lie down in the middle of the bread aisle" exhausted that I think so many would love to succumb to except for the danger of carts.

So, with that in mind, I share the following story that shows my deep love for my children.

Last night after work I came home with the idea that I would heat up some lentil soup, make a sandwich and just chill out. However, when I got home, Greyson was just finishing up making chicken parmagian (or however the Hell you spell that.) He was going to throw in the pasta in 7 minutes because Maelee was expected in 15. Apparently it's 8 minute pasta. Anyway, they were having their Valentine's Day dinner a day earlier than expected. By me.

So Marv and I went to McDonalds where I had a salad. Then I was...well, Exhausted...so I dropped him off at home and came home to shed my work clothes, and climb into bed with a good book. But, because this is never the way my life goes, Gabe says to me, "Will you give me a ride to Archery?" It's only over at the fairgrounds, so I affirmed that I would, and put my shoes and coat back on. As we were on our short journey, he invited me to shoot with him.

I would like to interject that I was EXHAUSTED. And, also, I don't like to socialize with people I don't know, so, you know. I said, sure. How often does an 18 year old boy invite his mother to do ANYTHING with him? Not often.

So with much trepidation, I followed him into the Rice County Fairgrounds Archery building. I'd worried aloud that the other people who would be there would all be his age, but he assured me that there would be other "old people" for me to bond with, and there were, indeed others my age there. He grabbed a compound bow and arrows and we sauntered over to the range. A guy that I SWEAR I know - I think he's a cop or something - gave us a primer on how to use said bow and arrow. Apparently we had that shiny brand-new look upon us.

I was happy for the info, but Gabe was doing what kids his age do: looking around and saying, "Yeah, I know that." (I could tell that he didn't, though.) Anyway, I watched Gabe shoot at the pheasant target for a while before I felt confident enough to get a bow and a quiver-full of arrows of my own.

My target was a deer, who happened to be positioned about 18 inches from a beaver. I honestly can say that the idea of hunting beaver with any sort of weapon, much less a bow and arrow, had never crossed my mind. And I wasn't shooting at the beaver, but he did make me want to shoot him. He had a certain look on his face. Sort of smarmy and challenging. Like he knew that if he flinched, I would miss him anyway. Even if I was aiming for him.

I was pretty pleased with my shot that hit the deer smack between the eyes. I realize that with a bow and arrow especially that isn't where you want to hit the deer, but still it was satisfying.

The next hour or so passed pleasantly with Gabe and I sharing laughs and cameraderie over our pretend killing spree. And I like to think that I proved myself a worthy enough companion that he might invite me to share in his world again some day. But even if this was a one-time experience, it was a nice way to pass an evening, and I realized, on the ride home, while we shared my stash of Girl Scout cookies, that I wasn't as tired as I'd thought.