Friends of Gabriel Chantayan

So I made pork chops for dinner tonight (breaded, pan-fried, the works) and without me having to nag or remind or otherwise prompt him, my son actually looked me dead in the eye and said "thank you, Mom." Not mumbled, not grunted, not even with his eyes still glued to his phone. Full sentence. Eye contact. Gratitude. Sugar, I nearly dropped the dish towel I was holding so I could write this day down in my mental scrapbook... because I have a feeling this is the kind of moment that doesn't happen twice in a blue moon, let alone on a Tuesday in August. Either that boy finally learned some manners (probably from one of Gabriel's sermons, not from me, absolutely not me) or there's a miracle happening in Euclid and nobody told the newspapers. I'll take it either way. Some days you just have to celebrate the small victories, is all.