migs and me

There this little boy who keeps appearing in my house. We'll call him "Migs" - not his real name, but close. I always pictured neighborhood friends as little boys who would come calling at the door, ringing the bell, politely asking Syd and Ben to come play. Not this kid.

I'm folding laundry and Scout is barking at Syd's closed bedroom door. I open it up to tell them to take a shower before dinner and there is Migs. "Waahh..." I say, startled by the boy sitting next to Syd playing video games.

One afternoon as I head back to our car to unload groceries, Migs is standing there, holding two grocery bags. "I can carry these in. Are your boys home?"

Another time, he silently appears in the kitchen from playing outside. "Waahh!" I say, startled again. "Can I have a cup?" asks Migs. "Do you want something to drink?" I ask back. "Yes."

"Do your parents know where you are?"

"Yes."

I've never met his parents, and didn't even know his name at this point.

Migs has big brown eyes and short dark hair, sort of like a lab puppy. He's lovable in an annoying way.

Today I ask him if he wants to go to church with us. He looks shyly away. "Yeah, maybe."

"Do you go to a church in Kyle?"

"Yes."

"What's the name of your church?"

"I can't remember."

"Well, what if I ask your mom if you can go to church with us...you would like it, there are a lot of kids, and they do skits..."

Please pray Migs will come with us.