It’s Just Me!

To every thing there is a season (Eccl. 3:1).

On Monday Jeremy wore his blue-and-white striped overalls. He was playing with his blocks when he heard his father’s car in the driveway. Jeremy ran to the front door.

“Hi there,” his father said as he came through the door. “I didn’t know a railroad engineer lived here.”

“No, Daddy, it’s just me, Jeremy,” Jeremy said. “These are only my overalls.”

Jeremy laughed as his father lifted him high in the air and swung him around until his mother called them for dinner.

Tuesday morning, when Jeremy came down to the kitchen for breakfast, he was wearing his astronaut pajamas, the ones with the rockets and stars on them.

“I didn’t know that a spaceship landed here last night,” Jeremy’s father said to Mother.

“No, Daddy, it’s just me, Jeremy,” Jeremy said.

“Well, we always feed hungry astronauts around here,” his father said, piling Jeremy’s plate high with pancakes and making zooming noises as he landed the plate in front of Jeremy.

Wednesday afternoon Jeremy ran to the door to meet his father when he came home from work. Jeremy ran fast because he was wearing his new running shoes and his sweat suit with the stripes down the arms and legs. He opened the door before his father reached the house.

“What do we have here?” his father called. “It looks like a famous athlete, right here in our own home.”

“No, Daddy, it’s just me, Jeremy,” Jeremy said. “I’m not a famous athlete.”

“Let’s see how fast you can run, anyway,” Jeremy’s father said. He chased Jeremy around the living room. Jeremy laughed as he tried to outrun his father, but he caught Jeremy in his strong arms, and they tumbled to the floor, wrestling and laughing.

Rain was pouring down on Thursday morning. After Jeremy ate his oatmeal, he got dressed for nursery school. He was pulling on his yellow rain slicker and his rubber rain boots when his father came into the room.

“Ahoy there, matey,” his father said. “Going fishing today?”

“What?” Jeremy asked, puzzled.

“Well, you must be a fisherman, dressed like that,” his father said.

“No, Daddy, it’s just me, Jeremy,” Jeremy said.

“Well, catch a lot of fish for dinner tonight, Jeremy the fisherman,” his father said as he went out the door on his way to work.

On Friday morning, Jeremy’s father stayed home. He was working in the yard when Jeremy woke up. Jeremy pulled on his favorite blue jeans and T-shirt and went out to help him.

“Who are you today?” his father asked. “A construction worker?”

“It’s just me, Jeremy,” Jeremy answered. “I’m a little boy.”

“A little boy?” his father said. “My goodness. All week I thought that you were someone else.”

“Maybe when I grow up, I’ll be a railroad engineer, or an astronaut, or a famous athlete, or a fisherman, or maybe a construction worker,” Jeremy said. “But right now I’m just a little boy.”

Jeremy’s father reached over and pulled Jeremy into a hug. “I know. You’re my little boy, and I love you just the way you are. But do you actually think that you could be someone else today too?”

“Who?” Jeremy asked.

“A gardener,” his father answered. He plopped a sun visor onto Jeremy’s head and put a rake into his hands.

Jeremy liked being a gardener. But Jeremy and his father didn’t get much work done. Every time they raked together a big pile of leaves, they jumped into the pile, laughing and scattering the leaves all over the yard. Then they stuffed leaves down each other’s shirt.

Jeremy and his father had a lot of fun that day, just being a little boy and his father.

[illustrations] Illustrated by Dick Brown