YES! It is all my fault, and I take full and utter responsibility. Reuben was only 3 when we were in a store and he wanted me to buy him a little toy tank. My fault. I bought it for him. He was the typical kid, he ran around pretending all the time, but as he grew up it became apparent that my son was obsessed with war and warfare. He used war lingo, and war jargon at age 6. When I grounded him to his room once he took out pencils from his little camo backpack and drew an entire audience. Now I know they were more than likely his platoon! He spoke to the walls, he talked to the men he drew (no women) and he made definite plans with them to take over the stuffed animals in the closet! That must have been the first time I saw what he would become famous for in our house - destroying stuffed bears! Look at him now, he's still trying to take on bear! This one is bronze son, bronze - give it up!
When I was late coming home from work once, and it was just Reu and I living at home, he had kept himself busy by redesigning my living quarters to match that of the battle of Gettysburg. I couldn't step anywhere without fear of changing history! In the 7th grade and 8th grades my son was a ceramic doll maker in creative arts class - don't laugh, he made Civil War heroes to scale. It's my fault, I started this; I must now accept it when he calls me all excited to tell me that WITH HIS BROKEN ARM he was still able to pass the tests that will guarantee him a try out for the Rangers! He qualified for the top ranks in shooting with a messed up right elbow! Now, the only thing I worry about is him getting behind enemy lines without a compass - and of course, if he has a compass there will need to be someone to explain the N,S,E,and W on it, because where he's the best at driving tanks, shooting targets, and sneaking into areas on recon - directions are out of the question. Hopefully the Army will take the time to do a bit more one-on-one with the boy before he actually takes on the country they set him down in.
This afternoon when he called me to tell me he had qualified I couldn't understand a single word out of his mouth - it was moving a million miles a minute, he was jumping, hopping, screaming, laughing, and just being the Reuben that I remember after a win on the football field where he had a personal best day! I missed that sound actually, and since I knew he wasn't wearing his #63 Pirates jersey today, I had to ask him at least 3 separate times to slow it down, say it again, OK....say it one more time. "Mom, I'm going to be a Ranger!" Can't tell you how proud of that boy I am. Seriously, he's going to be the best dang Ranger in the U.S. Army because he's been practicing for over 18 years for this. General George Custer could have used that boy in the day! Congratulations Baby Boy!
There was that one person who wasn't all that thrilled with the news - his grandma. She said she wouldn't want it, it was too dangerous, that the Rangers get all the hard and tough assignments - - my answer to my mother was this: Yes, he will be in the mix, and he will be called upon to do somethings that others wouldn't be able to do. He'll go in places, see things, do things, and be on his guard 24/7/365 - but - "my God is an awesome God, He reigns from Heaven above - He rules with Wisdom, Power and Love, my God is an awesome God!" How can I possibly ask that Reuben be held back -no, sorry Mom, not this boy - he is destined to be Ranger Reuben. Hooah!
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