The other day, when I dropped my 13-year-old son off for baseball practice, I noticed something.  As he jogged over to join his teammates, he smiled.  Happy to see his friends.  Happy to be a kid.  Happy to be part of the team.  Happy, a good thing.  Happy as a teen, a great thing for a parent.

This evening, picking up my teenager from confirmation class, he was in good spirits.  He did not even change the radio station as soon as he got in the car.  A pleasant development.

The radio station then did something playful, something unexpected, it began playing “Daydream Believer” by the Monkeys.  I delighted in this unexpected treat.  “Cheer up, sleepy Jean…” Then it struck me, my teen had been happy.  Sorry Monkeys, but you see, my teen is happy and that’s a moment to treasure.

I changed the station.  It was worth it to gain a few more smiling minutes, because you never know.  Tomorrow morning, I may need to cheer up a sleepy teen.  Certainly, that was something that the Monkeys would understand.