A Conversation With a 3-Year-Old Rex
I heard his little voice call out “mom?” He was up from his nap. A very, very short nap.
We had spent the morning shopping and he fell asleep on the way home. I got him out of the car with him still asleep and carried him across the little courtyard to the house. A man at the neighbors was working at a table saw which explained the pounding and knocking noises I heard once we were inside—an uncommon, minor inconvenience to living in a townhouse. I put the stereo on (Pandora easy listening station) louder than normal and laid him down, crossing my fingers.
And now, in an attempt to get him to fall back asleep again, I climbed into the bed and told him to close his eyes. After a few minutes, realizing it wasn’t going to work, I said, “Rex, what am I going to do when you don’t snuggle with me anymore?”
Pause. “Will you please always snuggle with me?”
Rex: “Yes, I will snuggle.”
Me: “But one day you’ll be big and you won’t want to snuggle anymore. And that’s okay.”
Rex: “Mommy, I am big.”
Me: “Yeah, you are buddy.”