My little boy K is not so little anymore, even though I want to think of him as the same cute little boy I found half-naked standing almost inside the refrigerator looking for some milk, even though the entire box of cheerios was all over the kitchen floor. And that rosy cheeked little munchkin that would roll around in the fall leaves and bury himself. Or one of my favorites, the kooky kid that put googly eyes all over his forehead so he see better. I am still cleaning up after him, still delight in watching him play, still laughing at his nonsensical ideas; even so somehow, he is not that little boy anymore. I should not have blinked.
K’s favorite book to read is the car manual. He reads it when it is his turn to ride shotgun, and tells me everything I need to know about wearing my seat belt properly, changing a fuse or headlight and reminds me to use the emergency break, especially if I am parked on a hill. Due to the many teaching opportunities I have given him, leaving my car lights on, he can jump-start my car.
This funny, charming, helpful young man makes my heart happy. When away from home he sends me dozens of kissy face emojis and wants video chat with me everyday. He will look for opportunities to make my work load easier by volunteering to cook dinner.
Although he enjoys being the “man of the house” and taking care of the girls, I know that sometimes he’d like to have some boys around too. He mentioned to me on more than one occasion, “Do you think you could marry someone with a son named Jon? It would be cool to have a brother named Jon”. I smiled at his request, happy that he would be okay if I did someday remarry and asked if he had any other requests, to which he replied, “He should also like football, especially the Cardinals”.
This football loving, nonsensical, caring young man makes my heart happy.