Last night I danced with my son. As we spun and dipped and bounced, he threw his head back and let out a deep belly laugh. I tried to memorize his chubby cheeks and the contours of his pudgy toddler neck. I tried to concentrate on what it felt like to have his legs wrapped around my waist and his little hands pressed against me. I thought of dancing with him at his wedding and how I hope, when that man leads me onto the dance floor, that I can remember what his baby laugh sounded like. I started to think about how strange it will be for another woman to love my son completely. It's so very odd that one day he will want nothing more than to be with her. Long gone will be the days of sitting on my lap and giggling over a rousing game of hide and seek. She will love the man inside of my boy, but I will always love the little boy inside of her man.
While we're on the subject of my son and any future wedding plans he may have, I should tell you that he is in love with Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana. He will sit through a half hour of that show better than he'll sit through any cartoon. If you ask him if he loves Hannah Montana he nods emphatically. Follow that question with, "Is she your girlfriend?" and he smiles and says yes. Sorry Miley, I hope you don't mind having a 21 month old boyfriend because I just don't have the heart to tell him that you're not interested.