Tonight, one of my fine young gents was up out of bed. I was in the kitchen cleaning, and I heard him padding down the hallway. "I hear someone out of bed," I called.
He appeared in the doorway. A little unsure of his reception, maybe, because after all he was supposed to be in bed. "I have only one bad dream," he said. "I have lots of good dreams, though," he whispered, a little half-smile on his face.
"Do you want to tell me the bad dream?" I asked.
"No. I only have one."
"Would you like me to blow the bad dream out?"
His smile got a little wider, he nodded.
I knelt down and blew in his ear. "Go away bad dreams," I whispered.
He turned his head. I blew in the other ear. "Here are some good dreams," I said, "How about sunshine, lollipops and rainbows tonight?" Sometimes it's puppies or ice cream or birthdays or balloons. Tonight, a corny line from a sappy-sweet song.
Another nod, an even bigger smile. He started to turn back down the hallway.
"Heeey," I said, mock stern. "You're forgetting something."
He giggled and gave me a kiss on my turned cheek. I gave him one back. Still kneeling on the floor I watched him walk back down the hallway. Halfway down, he turned, and with his very own special grin like no other grin in the world, he blew me a kiss.
And my heart just stopped.
At his sweetness, at his innocence, at that precious moment that was passing even as it happened.
I caught his kiss and tucked it in my heart like always. Oh. My babies. I wish I could tuck them in my heart too.