My boy has started singing. Really singing. Whether or not it he knows the words, he looks out the window and belts out sounds that are remotely on key for a two year old. It is so cute it really is distracting. I probably spend half of my driving life with the rear-view mirror flipped down hoping that I stay in the lines, trying to not miss a minute. Sometimes, he is so cute I have the urge to eat him with a fork and barbecue sauce. I wouldn’t ever really eat him, but there is this weird feeling, like love so deep, that makes me want to envelop him or absorb him into my body. I understand those species who eat their young. It is the only alternative to bottling up all the moments of pure love and devotion that are almost too much to bear sometimes.
Don’t worry. I won’t really eat my son, even if the urge strikes. I will write a lot about all these moments so I don’t forget. I will put them in a book for my boy so he always knows me and knows how much I love him.