You can't keep a good man down!
The other night my three-year old son and I had been through the regular nightly routine: story, prayer, hugs. Then as my hand slid down the light switch, "I want a gink."
He can't say "drink" and I thought it was kinda' cute, "gink." But, I was firm. "You just had a drink when you brushed your teeth. Now it's time to go to sleep.
At last the kids were all in bed. Peace. Silence. I sat in the best chair and begin to sort through the mail. "I want a gink!" from the darkness.
"Gink" lost some of its cuteness.
"No water! Go to sleep!"
Quietness reigned for at least 60 seconds. "Daddy, I want a gink."
"Be quiet."
"I want a gink."
I knew how Moses felt in the wilderness with a million Jews all crying, "We want a gink."
Gink was no longer cute. I yelled down the hallway into the darkness, "If I hear you ask for a gink one more time, if I hear one sound from you, I'm gonna come down there and spank you and I'm not kidding. Now be quiet and go to sleep!"
It was as quiet as a tomb, not a sound. You could have heard a pin drop.
It was so silent I couldn't concentrate on the mail.
Then the still small voice of a child who smelled victory. "Daddy, when you come in here to spank me could you bring me a gink of water?"
