where a kid can be a kid

I associate certain things with my childhood, as I imagine most people do. Laugh if you want, but I have to admit that Chuck E. Cheese's definitely generates a great deal of those nostalgic "awww-I-miss-being-nine-years-old" feelings.

Not that we went to the arcade/pizza place a whole lot. We only ever went for birthdays, or maybe as an occasional afternoon surprise from my parents when they said, "Hey, look what we have a coupon for!" It was always a major treat.

Ok, let's be honest. It still is.

Oh the glories of Chuck E. Cheese's: the pizza, the skeeball, the skytubes. Even the occasional spotting of Chuck E. himself could arouse some excitement. Or fear, quite possibly. I mean, that 8-foot anthropomorphic rat can seem pretty darn scary.

As I've gotten older, I have to be honest and say that my favorite part of the arcade is not even one of the games. And no, it's not the pizza, either. It's that Sketch-a-Photo machine. You know, where you and your friend squeeze onto this petite turquoise bench, drop a coin into the slot, and make funny faces for the camera. In a few moments, you are presented with photos like these:

before and after a show downtown: a.k.a. the story of our lives.

A bunch of us were treated to a show at a theatre downtown on Friday night. The play, adapted for the stage from C.S. Lewis's novel The Screwtape Letters, was brilliant; however I won't give a critical review of it here since I didn't exactly take notes while thoroughly enjoying the performance, which runneth over with thought-provoking monologues spoken in rather elevated language. Entertaining and insightful as the play--the main reason for the night out on the town-- truly was, please brace yourself for a glimpse into the average before-and-after sequence of events.

Date: January 15. Time: 5:32pm. People: Mrs. Dees, Karsten, Grant, Brandon, Zach, me. [Gavin and Mr. Dees come in later.]

Playing the role of taxi driver for the evening, Mrs. Dees pulls up by our driveway and we hop inside the pearly-white Nissan. They greet us with friendly hellos as we buckle our seatbelts and continue our journey to Gavin's house.

Five and a half minutes later, we pull into the Tomlin driveway and open the door for Gavin. "I feel overdressed," are the first words that escape his mouth as he steps into the minivan. Don't worry, Gavin. We're going to the theatre, so you can't really be overdressed. Besides, look at the rest of us. Khakis, pinstripe pants, collared shirts. Zach's wearing a tie, for goodness' sake.

The ride into D.C. consists of many clever one-liners and attempted staring contests with other cars' drivers. Actually, the staring contests are mostly Gavin's futile efforts to creep on strangers in the dark of night from the tinted window of a moving car. The rest of us are properly amused.

Arriving downtown, we park and make our way down a sidewalk to find Mr. Dees. Lo and behold, he is waiting for us in front of a restaurant. We hurry inside; we eat amazing burritos, cheeseburgers, and chicken wings; we continue to laugh at (1) Gavin for wearing my scarf in the queerest way possible and (2) the Foster brothers for ordering the same thing, as well as Zach and me for ordering the same thing. :] Siblings!

The trip to the restaurant's restrooms require a perilous odyssey through a few orange doors and down one very sketchy flight of stairs. Karsten and I make it safe and sound, and so do Brandon and Gavin. We happen to step outside the restroom just in time to scare them out of their wits. Inevitably, A marvelous moment of uncontrollable laughter ensues.

The green mints available at the restaurant exit turn out to be not so minty after all. They seem to be coconut-flavored, with a hint of lime. Strangely, we enjoy them.

[Insert documentary of the actual stage show here]

Refreshed, having just thoroughly enjoyed the play (even more than those ridiculous mints), we begin the hunt for a place to stop for ice cream and coffee. As far as coffee is concerned, Starbucks isn't an option: it's closed :[ Oh well. We find Gifford's ice cream, and a few of us buy ourselves some fantastic 7-dollar ice cream cones. Karsten chooses strawberry, I pick chocolate chip cookie dough, and Gavin gets something else. Grant, the frugal angel of the night, doesn't spend a dime. Zach buys a coke. Brandon runs down the street to the nearest Chipotle and grabs a burrito. (Of course.)

As we walk from Gifford's to the parking garage, we pass by a homeless man in front of a shop. I can't decide if he's sleeping or smoking. Although the sight of him startles me, I remain nonchalant as I continue strolling. A few moments later, I whisper to Brandon, "Well that was kind of scary," feeling sorry for the man.

"What are you talking about?" Brandon asks. "You.... you know he wasn't actually real right?"

I'm confused. Brandon goes on to try to explain to me that it was just a display out in front of some clothing shop or something. It was not a homeless man, bundled up and snoozing on the sidewalk. No big deal.

Of course, adamant that this was indeed a real person, I insist what I know to be true. Brandon chuckles, turns abruptly, and begins sprinting down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. The rest of us holler to him, pleading for him to come back before he gets beaten up! Mr. Dees convinces Brandon to come back with us. Brandon is always fearless: ready for an adventure!

We finally found ourselves in the parking garage. Exhausted but awaiting the inevitable sugar-high from our ice cream, we all head back to Nova.

I cannot believe myself for finishing my ice cream.

I accidentally leave my gloves in the car.

We continue to bask in the glory of our brilliant inside jokes.

All in all, it's been a grand evening.

simple analogy.

I really like dogs.

I own one, as a matter of fact.

I love their personalities. I love their diversity. I love the way they love you unconditionally.

Well, this is speaking just for most dogs. I think we all know that there are some dogs in existence who are definitely not meant to be pets.

But that doesn't matter in this post. I am just contemplating what there is to learn from owning a dog as a pet. Mocha, my beagle mix, turned two years old on Sunday; she has lived with us since she was eight weeks old. For the past 22 months, which seem to be a blur now as I look back at them, I have experienced what exactly it means to be a dog-owner. To live with man's best friend.

It is a bit of a paradox, really. Owning a dog is a joy, and yet it can be a pain. The joys surmount the pains, thank goodness; but still, it's definitely not a picnic, and it never has been.

I know for a fact that it never will be. But that's totally okay. It's the truth that I promised to accept before I even brought Mocha home, and I don't regret it.

There are certain parallels when I consider the relationship between me and my dog, and God and me. That may sound ridiculous to you, or maybe just a little bit cheesy. Allow me to explain.

This post is not supposed to be a devotional, but if it comes across that way, I suppose "it is what it is." It is an honest evaluation of the similarities between a person's relationship with a dog and God's relationship with a person. It is not philosophically deep, by any means. It is an observation.

When Mocha first came into the Andrews home, we set out primarily to teach her to obey us. This is not because we felt it our duty to lord over her as humans; it is because we needed to set up boundaries. We needed to assert ourselves as the dominant ones, for her good as well as ours.

One reason is that we wanted her to maintain decent manners with others as well as ourselves, so as not to develop a habit of bothering or hurting other people. She is a beagle, which means she should be quite mild-mannered; however, we do believe she has some Jack Russell in her, which gives her the tendency to display a more boisterous spirit than your average purebred beagle. Without proper training, Mocha would present a difficult task: especially when a visitor came to the door and was invited in to stay awhile. That could prove disastrous. Obedience would be key to ensure peace in the home.

Another reason, which presents an even more potentially tragic situation, is that Mocha's personal well-being depended on her obedience. Her safety, for instance. Not only is her obedience important in keeping others content with her behavior, but it is also imperative to her personal safety. What if she were to run out into the street to chase a rabbit, but when I called her name she ignored it? Heaven forbid, she could get hit by a car! What if I dropped a piece of my lunch onto the floor by accident -- a kind of food that could be toxic to a dog -- and when I told her to "leave it," she completely disregarded my command and went on to eat the food? The reason I ordered her against these actions was not because I didn't want her to have fun or enjoy herself; it was because I knew best in the situation: a situation with danger of which she was unaware.

Although these are just a few examples, they illustrate how in the same way, our obedience to God is way more important than the credit we usually give it. Just like we know better than our pets, God knows best in our everyday lives. He doesn't want us to hurt ourselves or others. His instruction and guidance are not meant to limit us to boring lifestyles; He sees the big picture, and He wants us to trust that!


Here I sit, with Mocha by my side. I love that I have Mocha by my side. It reminds me how God loves to be by our side. I guess having a dog has taught me more than I ever expected it would.

"I'm Phree Years Old Today"

"Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, so do our minutes hasten to their end." These words, penned by Shakespeare in one of his many famed sonnets, reflect the truth that time seems to pass oh so quickly: too quickly, to most people. I've noticed this as I've looked back at my calendar and considered the momentous events that took place in 2009. Not to mention how rapidly they happened and how we went on to enjoy the next things on our to-do list.

Now, as we have celebrated little Caden's 3rd birthday, I've been reminded yet again how it feels like three years ago was just yesterday! I hope you enjoy these photos, taken at his birthday party on New Year's Day 2010.