Every evening, after brushing his teeth and going to the bathrom, he chooses one of us to lie with him. Us on the covers, him underneath, we quietly listen to a couple of songs from his “sleep music” before kissing him on the cheek and leaving him (hopefully) to a long, peaceful sleep. Every night we ask him who is going to lie with him; he usually chooses her, but we ask anyway.
I love mommy a little more than you.
I hadn’t asked him THAT. It is a loaded question that I already knew the answer to. I had simply asked who he he wanted to put him to bed, but he felt compelled to offer an explanation. I was not hurt, his words lacking any purposeful venom. However, this might, I thought, prove to be an opportunity to teach him something: “That is probably the kinda thing that you should keep to yourself.”
A good, if not predictable, question. I struggled to assemble the appropriate words in a way that was simple enough for him to understand: “Most people want to be loved the most, and they can be hurt if you say they are not.”
But I love you a lot too Daddy, I just love mommy too much…
Spontaneously, he jumped into my lap and gave me a large hug and kiss.
…one day I will give that love to you.