Fatherhood: I Am the Cricket Hunter!

I learned a little something about being a Dad this week. My oldest daughter is 5 years old and she has a tender heart (though she’s also one tough cookie… reminds me of her Mom). She had a school project that involved catching a bug from the yard, putting it in a container and bringing it to school.

Kaitlyn and I spent the better part of an evening walking around in the yard in the dark looking for a bug. All the while we were talking. Talking about everything. Bonding. We finally stumbled upon a fat cricket in the grass. I corralled the little guy into an empty water bottle that we had packed with dirt and grass and sticks. A regular home away from home. Kaitlyn was very excited. She immediately ran inside talking excitedly about what she was going to name it and wondering if it was a boy or a girl. She slept that night with it next to her bed.

What Kaitlyn didn’t know was that at the end of the project all the kids would have to set their critters free outside. That teacher wasn’t about to have a bunch of bugs loose in her classroom! Kaitlyn came home at the end of the day devastated. She had to let her “pet” cricket go in the playground. She was crying, hugging, curling up on the couch in the fetal position like a teenager with a broken heart. It was pitiful.

Don’t worry, Kaitlyn. We’ll just go find another one. There’s lots of crickets.

Me and my big mouth.

So back out to the yard… in the dark… looking. There was no cricket to be found. Not even a spider (which wouldn’t have satisfied her broken heart anyway). She went to bed that night cricketless. I told her as I put her to bed that if we couldn’t find one, I would go to the bait and tackle store and buy her one. She stopped crying, smiled and went to sleep.

Now I was a man possessed. Possessed with finding a cricket for a pet for my daughter. So the next day, there I am driving all over town with all the kids in the van looking for a store that sold crickets. I went from store to store, striking out each time. Turns out not many people sell crickets anymore. Not even “Darlene’s Lawnmower Repair, Tan and Live Bait” store had them. I was thinking to myself, “This is NUTS! Who keeps crickets as pets anyway?” But I kept going.

Finally the NEXT DAY, I found a store that sold crickets. I brought home a prize of 25 chirping crickets to my girl. I felt like a mighty hunter returning from a long journey with an elk hide to feed the weary villagers. I stood, chest out and head held high as I announced to my wife that I, the Cricket Hunter, had arrived with the bounty. Kaitlyn was beyond excited. She has carried that little water bottle with her pet cricket in it everywhere she goes for 2 days straight.

Daddy’s happy.

Was that a silly exercise? Am I spoiling my daughter? Or is this what being a father is all about? I think the latter. Now, if she had been stomping her feet and demanding I find her a cricket NOOOWWWW!! then that would be different.

Isn’t this what God does for us in so many ways? Even when we are stomping our feet and demanding it NOW?

[tags]mercy, God, provision, parenting, fatherhood, motherhood, children, pets, animals, childhood[/tags]