Sometimes as a grownup it is hard to tell the good days from the bad.  Actually, sometimes it is just hard to tell one day from another.  Work smashes into home smashes into faith smashes into life and it all seems to just get lost in translation.  But every once in a while, a good day just sneaks up on you when you least expect it…that is if you stop to think about it.

Tonight, driving home at 8:30, my two year old son Brendan looked over at his six year old sister Maeve, and after finishing a deep yawn and fervent eye rub, put a fine point on things by saying in a tired yet satisfied voice, “Maeve, it was a good day huh.”

My wife Bridget smiled at me and I choked back a tear because, as anyone with two small children can tell you, sometimes we need to be reminded of just how good our days really are.

For Brendan, the day included breakfast and fish tank cleaning, an hour and a half of watching (or not watching) his sister’s t-ball game, lunch and yogurt with his family and grandmother and grandfather, afternoon work in the garden, dinner at a family friends house with play time and more ice cream, and a short drive home filled with what must have been some quiet reflection.

What seemed like just another Saturday to me was a good day for Brendan.  He spent most of the day outside, playing in nature, running (and eating) with people he loves and that love him.  He didn’t do anything extraordinary, didn’t go to Disneyland or a party or the Zoo.  He didn’t get a new toy or a new book.  He didn’t have to.

What seemed like just another day to me, now in retrospect thanks to my two year old, really was a good day.

I am glad he stopped to think about it