Thing2 and I were sitting on the couch Friday evening, bombarded with ads from jewelry stores and department stores guilt-tripping kids and husbands into all the things they should buy if they really love their mom.
“Can I have some money to buy you something special?” Thing2 asked after one ad suggesting that $1200 for a diamond necklace was a reasonable purchase for your dear mom.
“You never need to buy your mother anything,” I answered, trying not to set a precedent.
“But I want to do something – ” Thing2 stopped mid-sentence, obviously remembering the something special he must have made in class that was still sitting in his backpack. The commercial ended, and he snuggled up with me.
By the next commercial, Thing2 was nodding off, and he wrapped his arm around me. Before the commercial was over, half on and half off my lap, he was snoring. I was pinned in an odd position, but I didn’t move. We stayed like that until shortly before the Big Guy was due home from his play.
There won’t be many more times when seven-year-old Thing2 is willing to snuggle up like that. But having that quiet time on the couch was all the mother’s day present I needed.