This week my favorite 14-year-old accompanied me to the North American Christian Convention, reading zombie novels during the long plane rides, gobbling down medium rare steaks at Hard Rock Cafe, meeting dozens of my friends and colleagues, and generally being delightful company. And making me laugh.
While I stumble across the room trying to get my toothbrush from one bag, pajamas from another, and toothpaste from a third while banging my big toe and trying not to wake up my parents: “I’m learning so much about you this week.”
After being here for one day: “Tomorrow I want to go to this workshop at 1:30 and this one at 3:30 and then the main session and then I can hang out with you after if you want. I have a lot of plans.”
“My high today was hanging out with the guys. My low was the security guard telling us to get off the escalators.”
“What are we going to eat?” (repeat 46 times)
“Jen, we’re in a place that calls itself the City of Possibility. Anything can happen.”
“I really like conventions.”