As we were talking, the boy started to laugh. It wasn't just any laugh. It started low in his throat and then morphed into a full-on belly laugh. Once he had regained his composure he asked, "Do you remember the game that the little brown-haired boy and I created in preschool? Remember we would spit into one another's mouths. Gosh that was gross!"
How could I forget. The memory of the day the boy came home and told me about the new game he had invented is burned into my mind. He was three-years-old and since he had been speaking in full sentences for over a year, he had no trouble describing the game in painful detail.
I remember feeling both nauseous and slightly amused. I mean who thinks up this stuff? My kid, that's who.
The most ridiculous part of his storywas the name... Kids Lids Letcher. I think Kids Lids Wretcher is more like it. As the boy recalls, they would gleefully shout the name before the spitting part began.
The boy and I had a good laugh as we talked about his silly toddler antics. He was quite a character when he was younger. He still is.
As I sat next to him on the bed, I was filled with such joy. It makes my heart happy to know that my boy looks back on his eleven years with such fondness. What more could a mother want?
The hubby and I certainly aren't perfect, but it was a gentle reminder that we are doing some things right. And for me, that's enough.