Jonah had a bit of a cold this weekend, so he and I stayed home while John and Hannah went to the Philosophy department’s fall potluck. We shared what has become our favorite meal to share when the others aren’t around: shrimp, udon noodles and peas. I cook the noodles slowly in chicken broth and they get all soft and plump with the broth they absorb, then I throw in some peas. We eat it just like that, nothing else. It’s very simple and Jonah loves it.
So, we are sitting next to each other at the table, enjoying our food and Jonah turns to me and says: “Mom, I am your prince charming”.
And, indeed, he is.
From the day he was born, this little fellow has melted my heart. He is sweet. He is a sweetheart. He loves to be held and snuggled. In his sleep, he reaches out, searching for my hand to hold. As he wakes, the first thing he says in a sleepy murmur is: “I love you too mom”. When I carry him on my hip, he’ll reach over to pat me on the shoulder (watching him do the same to John turns me to mush). He is kind to his sister. He is gentle with our cat. He’s cute and smart and funny and vibrant. His smile, his beautiful blue eyes... Oh, sure, he can be as annoying as the next guy. He's terribly clingy and needy when he's sick. Sometimes I'd just as soon hide all his drums and that un-tunable toy guitar he loves. I'm pretty sure he has inherited (fom John) the gene that renders him incapable of finding things that are right there in front of him. And someday the little boy who asks me for a kiss, then a hug, another kiss, another hug, over and over again... won't do that anymore. Someday, he'll be--in what little there is that is true in fairytales--someone else's prince charming.
Forget the suit of armor, the princess in the tower, the dragon, the white horse. For now, he is my very own.