When I got out of the shower this morning, my older son, “Big-L”, was sitting on the bathroom floor still playing on his iPod Touch — he had woken up quite [too] early this morning. From there I had to go into my room to get some clothes for the day and my younger son, “Lil-X”, was sitting cross-legged on my bed next to his mother who, I could tell, had barely slept a wink.
“Hey, little guy. Did you have a good sleep?”
“Yeah,” he replied sleepily. “C’you pick me up?”
“Oh, just a sec, kiddo. I have to get dressed first, Ok?”
When I was done I went over and sat down next to him on the bed. “You still sleepy, buddy?”
“Lil-X” reached his open hand towards my face but he couldn’t quite reach it so, his perfect little fingers motioned for me to lean in. And when I did, he placed his hand on the nape of my neck and pulled me even closer. Close enough that I could feel the breath from his little nose on my face. He then proceeded to study my eyes with such curious intensity it felt like he was peering directly into my soul. I remember hoping he could tell how much I loved him. Those few seconds felt like an absolute gift that will last forever.
Finally, he said, “They don’t look red to me.”
“What, my eyes?”
“Yeah.” Implying that I didn’t look tired.
“Well, they feel pretty red this morning, handsome.”
“Oh. C’you pick me up?”
“You bet, kiddo.”
I love those boys. ?