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Well, it has finally happened, I am starting to have to move things away from my eyes in able to focus and read. I started noticying this when I was climbing under people’s desks to work on their computers. There are tags on the back and on the top of computers that tell you what make and model it is. Reciently, I have had a hard time reading these little tags. I really didn’t worry about it because I was under a desk and it is kind of dark. But, today in church, I noticed that I could not read some fine print on a page I was reading. I took it up close, then far away, then up close again. My eyes strained, but they could not focus on the letters. Now, this is in a very well lit LDS church so I really can not blame it on the dark recesses of a computers nook. I’m definitely starting to go blind!

I don’t know when I’ll have to wear (old man’s glasses) but I do see that it will be coming sooner, rather than later.

When I was young, my mother gave each of the kids an orange box. (Not a box that was the color orange but a box that usually came with oranges in it, you know, the ones with handles on the sides?). This box was then labeled “Treasure Box”. The box was used to hold all of your important documents and personal items. For example, after each school year, our report cards would be stored in our Treasure Box. Other items in our treasure boxes would be our baptismal certificate when we were baptized, our pictures taking during the year and any other important award we had won.

I loved my treasure box. I probably put more stuff in there than I needed to. I think I had some old post cards in there from some trip I went on. I have pictures of when we went to universal studios and was scared by the Incredible Hulk that ran into the audience. I really should go through my treasure box and pull out the stuff that doesn’t really mean anything to me. Now that I think about it, there is probably a Japanese or Chinese newspaper in there that my Grandpa gave me. I don’t know why he gave it to me, I just remember that it had really funny writing on it. It doesn’t mean much to me except that my Grandpa gave it to me.

Over the years, my treasure box has multiplied. I now have three treasure boxes. When I was over at my Mom’s house the other night, my mom gave me some pictures of me when I was little. She asked me, “Do you still have a Treasure Box?” “Of course I do”, I replied. When I got home, I ran downstairs and plopped my pictures into my box. The box has now matured and grown into a nice tupperware box with a sealed top. My two other boxes are simple boxes with mission stuff from when I served an LDS mission in Cali Colombia and Quito Ecuador. Another box has stuff from when I attended BYU and Utah State. It is always hard to get in and clean it out because all sorts of memories come flooding back to my mind and I end up wasting hours just looking through old pictures.

I guess in the mormon church we talk about keeping a journal, but I think it is also nice to have a box full of your favorite memories and pictures. Maybe I should take out the stuff in my treasure box every once in a while and show it to my kids. Maybe they will learn something from it. Maybe I’ll do it in a Family Home Evening.

I guess every family gets to this point at sometime in their family’s life cycle. Our kids are starting to sound like us, the parents. Let me explain.

Tonight, we went to my son’s Court of Honor where he earned 9 merit badges. We were all very proud of his accomplishment. He has now earned enough badges to advance to the rank of “Star“. Most of these Merit Badges came from his work up at Scout Camp (Camp Bradley to be specific). Although we are very excited about his progress, our discussions with friends in our lds ward was that our kids are starting to sound like us on the phone. One friend commented that when she would get on the phone, then immediately think they are talking to me or my wife and just rattle on about the events of the day and then notice that there isn’t an immediate response. The sheepish reply was, “I’ll get my Mom for you, just a sec.” Of course, the caller is embarrassed to have just assumed that they were talking to Deanna.

I guess everyone reaches that point, but I guess it has just become more and more noticeable these last few week. I guess our kids are growing up and now are starting to sound like us, for better or for worse.