Untagged

A desperate wail echoed into the early evening hours.  This was no ordinary cry of pain or anger, but a soul wrenching howl of anguish and loss.  Tamara quickly ran from the bedroom to find our youngest son crumpling to the floor in the hallway.  He was on the edge of pure hysteria.

“What’s wrong,” she asked, trying to usher Gage away from the full scale breakdown he was approaching.  Amidst the sobbing and tears, she was able to decipher one word…‘Tag’.  Yes, the unthinkable had happened.  The washing instructions had completely torn away from one of his favorite blankets and now lay lifelessly on the floor.  Those of you who know Gage can understand what a tragedy this is.  If you don’t quite get it, you’ve probably not heard about his love of tags.

It took a good deal of time to calm his aching heart.  With great care, Tamara was finally able to convince him that she could sew it back on.

As I was telling this story in my LIfeGroup, one of the other guys mentioned that his oldest daughter has the exact opposite problem.  She has a fit if any of her clothes have a tag in them.  He said they have no idea what size any of her garments are, or what the washing instructions might be for them.  They have to cut the tags out of every one or she won’t wear them.  The suggestion was made that they need to collect all those tags and then we could sew them on a blanket for Gage.  I think it’s a great idea!  I can almost imagine the look of befuddlement and delight on his face at seeing an entire blanket ringed in tags!

In other tag related news, we may have an issue of hard feelings developing between Gage and his sister.  For the better part of five years, our dining room chairs have sat virtually unscathed as they silently performed their duty.  Haven has changed all of that.  Single handedly, she has ripped almost every single manufacturers tag from the bottom of these seats. 

The first time Gage came across this grisly sight, he did nothing short of panic.  “Sister’s got a tag,” he screamed, loud and long enough to hear from three rooms away.  By the time I got to the kitchen he was bouncing back and forth with tears streaming down his face.  He couldn’t understand how she would even want to do something so horrible to those precious, hallowed things.  Those two may always be at odds over their contrasting treatment of tags.  Only time will tell.