My Favorite Thing About Him

It’s not his eyes, although they are dreamy.

It’s not the chub between his cheeks and his neck, although I can never resist covering him in kisses right in his special spot.

It’s not how he says HI. MA-MA. Choc [chocolate milk]? first thing after tumbling into our room and hoisting himself onto our bed at 6:30am.

Or how when I make him a snack, he continues standing there with an expectant look on his face and says Buck Buck? until I make his sister a snack, too. Which he then delivers to her.

Although, if we’re being honest, I come crazily close to tears almost every day over that one.

My favorite thing about him is when he holds up his hand to be held. Not out in the street– that’s just following the rules. But when he does it walking around the house? Or at the breakfast table, just sitting holding my hand?

It does me in.

Do big boys hold their mamas’ hands?

Someone say yes.

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2 thoughts on “My Favorite Thing About Him

  1. that is the same thing that makes me tear up about Liam. He is almost 6 years old. Still holds my hand. At the movie theatre (like a date), watching TV at home, walking outside, inside, anywhere. sweet sweet boys.

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