The day that I secretly wished would somehow never come to be.
I knew it would someday…but I thought that maybe, just *maybe*, by some cosmic good fortune, I would be able to escape the inevitable for at least another 22 years.
* * * *
I was playing with Henry on the floor and leaned over “Henry, give Mama a kiss”….
”NO!” and he ran away.
I froze. My eyes widened to the size of saucers. My jaw dropped. I crumpled into a cross legged ball in the middle of the living room floor.
Shocked.
Not because my son didn’t want to give his Mama a kiss. That happens plenty.
But IT has happened:
Henry has learned the word “No”.
Oh, how I loved the little “yeshes” of months past which have slowly turned into a confident and loudly resounding “Yeah!”
So sweet. So cute. So perfect.
If he didn’t want a banana he would furrow his little brow and wave an arm…indicating he wasn’t interested. But never did I hear that dreadful word.
I kinda hoped he wouldn’t actually know how to say no until he was 23 or 24. Sadly, I was wrong, and I now mourn. I may wear black for a few days. Pay no attention to it. It's just me being really dramatic.
