Um. So. That title sounds a little...questionable. I assume you realized it was about children.
Yesterday I had one of those nights where I wanted to hop into the crib and just breath in the smell of Shea butter and baby shampoo. Then I wanted to crawl into the toddler bed and snuggle the three-year-old as he squirmed and grunted in his sleep*. But I probably would have broken the crib. I mean, they're certainly not designed for adult women over a hundred pounds. And The Rock Star would have woken up, said something in what would have sounded like another language and then start sobbing. He cries a lot when he gets woken out of a dead sleep. But anyway. I wanted to snuggle them...forever.
So you can imagine that today's conversation melted my heart a little. Garrett turned a laundry basket upside down and was about a nanosecond from breaking a music box that normally is out of his reach. I explained--in no uncertain terms--that he needed to set it down immediately and that he was not allowed to play with anything on that shelf.
G: I just wanted it to play some music.
Me: Then you need to ask me to turn it on.
G: Will you turn it on?
Me: In just a second.
(I look down at him from the kitchen and see him picking up a different thing that he isn't supposed to play with on the very shelf that I instructed him not to touch.)
Me: (heading down to the family room) Garrett! I said don't touch anything on that shelf!
G: I'm sorry.
Me: (pause) I forgive you.
G: (pause) Mommy.
G: I love you. (pause) Even when I'm naughty.
Me: (hugging him tightly) I love you, too. So much. Even when you're naughty. And you know what?
Me: I love you when I'm naughty, too.
*Garrett is a seriously restless sleeper. I mean, he's resting. He gets sleep. But when someone else tries to sleep with him, well, heads get punched, legs get kicked. It's a party. His poor wife. That's all I have to say.