Tonight while I was lounging in bed nursing a cold (cough, cough, wiping hand across nose), I decided to take the opportunity to sit the Man Child down for a session of "gentle parenting persuasion". On the syllabus for tonight- convincing the MC that I am and should always be #1 in his life.
It went a little something like this:
Mom: Repeat after me son (to which he dutifully complied)
"I love my Mommy"
"My Mommy is the best"
"My Mommy is my best friend"
"I will love her forever and forever"
"I will never love anyone more than my Mommy"
"I promise that I will take care of my Mommy when she is old"
"I will change her diaper for her when she can no longer go to the potty on her own"
I was really enjoying this bonding moment until TQ interjected that I was brain washing him (hey, there were no water boards involved) and therefore these profusions of love really didn't hold much weight.
No, no I protested. I was only helping him verbalize what he felt inside but until this moment could not find words to express. Couldn't she see the adoration in his eyes? The way he clung to me as if my hug could save him from all the ills of the world?
Then the sound of the garage door slowly opening interrupted our bonding moment. The Man Child squealed with delight "daddy's home" and jumped off the bed with such speed and agility you would have thought he was chasing a chicken nugget on a stick.
I didn't see the reunion but I am sure if it was played out on film there would have been a shot of them running in slow motion to each other, arms splayed wide, silent tears running down their faces, as if they had been apart for years and were finally reunited through the magic of the Internet and Dateline investigators.
Irony is so cruel.