We let Monkey stay up a little late tonight and snuggle between us on the bed for some Antiques Road Show. It was one of those rare quiet moments in which he is so happy for the special treatment that he actually behaves himself for a bit, like he's testing out the icy pond to make sure it's really frozen.
Out of that moment, before the drama of trying to get him to go to bed, I bring you this dialogue, which I think demonstrates the full range of a tender-hearted three year old boy's deepest thoughts:
[We were talking about grandmothers, for some reason]
Monkey: ...and Grandma Peggy died.
Me: Yes, she did. And I really miss her.
Monkey: I miss her, too.
[Hubs and I exchange a tiny smile since she died 10 years before he was born].
Monkey: But it's okay, she still loves us. She's in our hearts.
Hubs: That's right.
Monkey: And G-d is with her.
Me: [Can say nothing, tears flowing. Hugs him tight.]
Hubs: Yeah, buddy. You're right.
Monkey: And you know what else?
Hubs: What?
Monkey: If you cut yourself open and looked inside, you could see all your bones. And your heart. My heart is pink and purple. [Farts loudly] Did anyone hear that noise?
There are moments in life where you don't know whether to laugh or cry, and others where you're absolutely sure you must do both. I'm so grateful to my little boy for giving me one of those tonight!
