Perfect

On a recent trip, my grandson, age 8, asked me to get a drink for him when I was getting up to refill my own glass. I forgot to ask him what flavor he wanted. Since we were in Hawai'i, I selected the guava juice for both of us.

"Perfect," he said, pronouncing each syllable of the word with precision and gusto.

No matter what you do for Brandon, he'll respond the same way. Do I always act perfectly for him or does he enjoy whatever I do even if it's not quite right? It doesn't matter. I really love being with the child, and he gets my undivided attention.

Recently I decided to apply Brandon's "perfect" response to the little things in my life. When I get eight green stoplights in a row, I say, "perfect." I try to pronounce the word just as Brandon does. Even when I sail through seven out of eight stoplights, I'll bellow out the word.

It's fun to salute the little things in life that go right, even those things that are not quite perfect.

Thanks, Brandon.