Afterwards, I had a sandwich

Thursday night, I lay on the couch totally spent from the day’s hystronics (which according to my Mac dictionary is not a word, but it SURE AS HELL WAS A WORD ON THURSDAY) (ed. note: **lightbulb** HISTRIONICS. I knew it existed.) and watched Bug and Lorso eat a meager sandwich dinner from afar. If ever there was an indication that I had a V. Bad Day it is disinterest in food that is in my vicinity.

But Bug, seemingly unaffected by the events of the day munched away at his peanut butter and banana sandwich and caught Lorso up on crucial issues such as what color cars he saw that day and which underwear he was going to pick out after his bath that night.

I was only barely listening, eyes closed, half-dozing. Then out of the blue I felt hot peanut butter breath on my face and two arms around my neck. I opened my eyes to find Bug’s two dark brown ones peering right at me. He gave me a soft squeeze and then, still gazing at me, walked slowly back to the table trailing his fingers down my legs all the way to my feet.

He walked back to Lorso’s chair and casting furtive glances back in my direction said “Daddy, I have a secret.”

Lorso leaned down close to Bug’s sticky mouth and stayed there listening intently for what seemed like a long time for a three-year-old sized revelation. I watched, amused, because Bug’s secrets usually go something like “MOMMY’S A SILLY GOOSE.” or “BUGAWKY SHOOPY.” But when Lorso sat up again he just looked at me and smiled, and I knew that sneaky kid was about to get me again, unexpectedly and heart-wrenchingly as he is wont to do.

Lorso put his hand on Bug and said “Is that a secret from Mommy, or can I tell her?” Bug, mouth already full again, nodded shyly and pointed over at me and I waited.

“He said he loved his Mom all the way to the tips of her toes,” Lorso informed me.

And the craziest part was that even after that awful terrible day of shouts and slammed doors and tears, I knew he meant it.

Sometimes it’s the smallest redemptions that can help move the heaviest weights from our shoulders.

6 comments

1 Allen { 08.25.08 at 3:14 pm }

It is because of posts like this that I have tissue on my desk…at work!

2 Rebekah { 08.25.08 at 3:38 pm }

You should keep him. definitely. and his dad, too.

3 Mandy { 08.25.08 at 7:30 pm }

This makes me weepy. So beautiful, so poignant, so the best part of any day… Ah, boys who love their mamas.

4 Leeann { 08.25.08 at 8:17 pm }

The funny thing about you misspelling histrionics with an hys- is that the Greek word for womb is hystera – so maybe your first spelling was not so much a misspelling as a testament to where you are in life right now.

Or maybe you just can’t spell 😉

*retreating back into geeky linguistic land*

5 Nichole { 08.28.08 at 9:57 am }

Oh, that’s just the sweetest.

6 carol { 08.28.08 at 2:51 pm }

Sometimes kids and puppies know just what our hearts need.

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