He will never let me forget.

Will’s baseball practice had just ended and we walked the long 40 year journey through the wilderness back to the car.

“Will, where is your glove?”

He responded with big, questioning eyes.

“Will, you had one thing to keep up with and you forgot?”

Silence. Still nothing but the big eyes.

I wasn’t happy as I looked back over the great divide towards the field we had just departed.

Will interjected, “I’ll run back and get it.”

“That would be great,” I responded.

Wishful thinking.

About a quarter of the way there Will took a turn in the wrong direction. I dropped the equipment bag and started my long journey back. I was worried. I didn’t have enough water for the trip.

We arrived at the field and no glove.

“Great Will, now what are we going to do?” My mercy quotient was running on empty.

Then Will had a revelation.

“I gave you my glove.”

I thought, you’re too young for dementia.

I said, “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

This could have gone on all day long.

Finally, Will took off running back to the car. I walked. When I got there, Will was holding the glove. Proudly. With a huge smile.

“It was in the bag,” he exclaimed.

Of course, I had been in charge of the bag. Evidently, he handed me the glove while I was flapping my jaws with the parents.

“I told you that I gave it to you!”

For the next 10 minutes I had to hear it from him. And I’m sure that won’t be the last of it.

Sons don’t forget the mistakes of their fathers. Forgive maybe, but forget…never. Many good things may get lost in the shuffle of life but mistakes will stand the test of time.

They can often define us.

This was an innocuous one and we’ll have some fun with it. I pray to avoid the biggies. For his sake more than my own.

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