The five-year-old has turned from the spitting, screaming, biting that got him euphemistically categorized as a “spirited” toddler into a bright, loving, bouncy Kindergartener. I adore him. Really. It’s just so lovely to see the transformation in him. Not that he still can’t be ridiculously stubborn and demanding sometimes, but it does not define him anymore.
He has this lovely habit of coming up to me–unprompted–and saying:
I love you Mom, so much.
My heart melts and I give him a big, don’t grow up too soon my baby, hug.
The other night we were having our ritual bedtime snuggle in the big chair. The television was on, and someone on the show said
I love you so much Mom.
Immediately, I felt his little spine straighten, and with just a hint of righteous indignation he declared.
Hey! That’s what I say!
He was silent for a few moments except for the whir and clunk of the gears inside his brain.
I awaited the results of his calculating.
And then he looked at me:
I love you Mom…greatly.
A true original, my Griffin.
What do you think? Future screenwriter? Copyright lawyer? Patent clerk?