Then he turned two. And he developed a sense of humor. And a streak of independence. And a sweetness that eclipsed everything he was at one year old. And I thought to myself, “This is it. He is perfection personified. I will never enjoy him as much as I do right now.”
Then he turned three. Frankly, three was not my favorite. He was a bit of a beast. But we survived and he turned four. Four was magical. He was this perfect little thing who believed completely in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and fairy dust and magic. He relished the things that the rest of us had grown too busy and beleaguered to even notice. A yellow leaf twirling in the wind. Ants slowly making their way across the sidewalk. Fat worms wriggling in the dirt, warmed by the summer sun. He could draw, cut, color, and paste for hours on end. He smelled amazing when he was freshly bathed and dressed in his cozy pajamas. Four years old had to be the perfect age.
Each year of Lucas' life, I have thought, “This is it. He is perfection personified. I will never enjoy him as much as I do right now.” And each year I am surprised that he keeps getting better and better.

He was taking a shower at the time. At nine years old, Lucas is very a much a little boy who wants very much to be a big man. He wants to shower himself. He doesn't need to his mom to help him. But like generations of kids before him, he is pretty convinced that aliens are going to abduct his entire family while he is alone in the shower. So he has asked me to stay in bathroom with him when he showers. And of course, as a survivor of the pre-teen alien abduction nightmares, I happily oblige.

“Ask me about particles, mom. Or space. Ask me anything about space,” he said.
“Okay, Lucas, what about a light
year. Is a light year a measurement of time or distance?” I
attempted to stump him.
“Oh mom, that's too easy. It's distance,” he exclaimed. “People think it is time because it is a year, but it is really distance. How far light travels in a year.”
“Alright, you're smart.”
“Did you know that the Big Bang is still going on?”
“Really,” he replied. “Right now, at this very moment, we are banging.”
“Right now? In this bathroom? You and I are banging?”
“Yep. The Big Bang is still happening today. We are banging. The universe is still changing. The Big Bang isn't over.”
“Interesting.”
“Isn't it?”
This is it. He is perfection personified. I will never enjoy him as much as I do right now.
2 comments:
Loved this. It only gets better with momentary interruptions of sanity but all good.
He does sound like a great kid. Not surprising considering who his mama is. Love this story. And the idea that the big bang is still happening and that we're part of the process is just mind boggling and fantastic! Sam would LOVE this kid.
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