Friday, August 13, 2010

94. Prayers

We have just finished saying our prayers and I know Tall is sleepy. I am leaning in to give him a simple good-night peck on the cheek. He pulls his head away abruptly. Huh. I am mildly hurt, as he is only 6 ½. Is this the age when you no longer want your mom give you a quick kiss? As though he is reading my mind, he turns back to face me. He smiles and blinks his tired eyes. He looks at me in what can only be described as a loving manner, and he starts to speak. I wait hopefully for whatever sweet morsel he will deliver. This is that special groggy time when he reveals that his Goal In Life is to be a professional race-car driver. He also doles out compliments at 8 PM—“Mommy, you make the best cookies in the entire Universe!” (Apparently the cookies on Jupiter tend to be dry.) One time when I was tucking him he told me I was so beautiful that I reminded him of a Princess. Moments like that are rare. I reflect on this special time and it makes me remember why I wanted to be a mother in the first place. “Mommy?” he begins and then pauses, making sure he has my attention, “You have bad breath.” Princess needs toothpaste. MOV (“Mouthing Off Verbatim”)

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