The announcement surprised me a little.
“I need shampoo,” said 13-year-old son. Now this was something new, because his past included a time when washing the hair needn’t include shampoo, just sluicing a little water over aromatic locks.
But, hey, if he’s awash in hormones, he can be awash in soap, too, right?
“And it needs to be manly,” he added.
Manly? OK, I get that lilac and rose aren’t manly, but what’s so awful about coconut and strawberry? They’re in desserts, right?
But we marched down the shampoo aisle until he shoved a gray and black bottle in my face. “This is manly,” he said and so we bought it.
I barely had the cans of tomato sauce stowed in the pantry at home when he emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a damp towel, and put his wet head under my nose. “Do I smell manly?” And then he shoved his dripping forearm into the air. “Smell that!” We'd bought the matching shower gel, too.
He beamed after I assured him, “that is very manly.”
Being a parent has taught me some things about God’s nature. I chuckle at shampoo scents but he knows the number of hairs on my head. I want to assure my son of his manliness and God assures me of his love.
We are often as 13-year-olds but we can rest in a Daddy who is ready to sniff our arm and listen to our plans.
I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with loving-kindness.