When I had my first son, a woman I worked with in California (who had two sons of her own) told me it would be like having a little boyfriend. I found that very odd and mildly disturbing at the time, but I have since found her to be 100% correct. I have a husband and two boyfriends here under my own roof.
Last night at bedtime, after cuddling with Lyle for a few minutes on his bed, his little arms wrapped around my neck and his cheek against mine, I gave him his last kiss and said good-night to both boys. Within seconds there was a panicked cry: “MOMMY!!!”
I stepped back into the room.
“I need to give you one more really big smooch!!”
I leaned down to receive those arms encircling my neck once again and he planted one of his hugest kisses on me ever (and believe me, there have been some doozies – I’ve had to rein him in).
As I extracted myself from his grip, I told him, “I’ll hang onto that smooch all night, don’t worry.”
He pointed his little finger at me and warned, “Do not put your lips on anything all night. You don’t want it to wipe off!”
Watch out, ladies, here he comes.