Early Thursday morning, during our customary ‘cuddle time’ when we desperately (and futilely) try to get the kids to fall back to sleep in our bed, the kids had the following conversation:
Luke: “Charlotte?…. Charlotte?…. Charlotte?….”
Charlotte: (finally, in an exasperated tone) “Yes, Luke.”
Luke: “I love you, Charlotte.”
(Pause)
Luke: “Charlotte?…. Charlotte?…. Charlotte?….”
Charlotte: (finally, in an exasperated tone) “Yes, Luke.”
Luke: “I love you, Charlotte.”
(Pause)
Charlotte: (finally) “I love you, too, Luke.”
Luke is currently in what I am calling his ‘I love you, man’ phase. (Karen and I recently saw the movie I Love You, Man. Pretty funny stuff. Of course, not exactly family fare.)
Over the past couple of weeks, Luke has been spontaneously declaring his love for us. As you can imagine, it’s a fantastic phase. Sometimes, it seems as though he might be fishing for the same expression back. But most of the time, he just says it and he’s off, like a superhero spreading his super joy.
We might be playing with his toys and he’ll pause for a moment to say, “I love you, Dad!” Or I’ll be tickling him and he’ll catch his breath long enough to get out a barely intelligible, “Daddy, I love you.” Or I’ll be working in the office and he’ll run in just to say, “I love you, Dad,” and then run out laughing. The other night, I tucked him in, kissed him good night, and was rewarded with a, “Good night, Dad. I love you.”
Don’t get me wrong. Two and a half year olds (and four year olds) are certainly not all peaches and cream. At bed time, I often have to suffer through arguments between the kids over who gets to have Mom put them to bed. (‘Hello, kids, I’m standing right here!’) I know they prefer their mom, but do they have to rub it in?
Luke’s been particularly disobedient of late. The other day, I went into his bedroom while he was playing and was greeted by him putting up his hand and harshly telling me to “Get Out!” When I asked him why he said that, he responded with what is becoming his standard reply: “Because I wanted to.”
Ugh. And he’s not even close to being a teenager yet.
But regardless, the “I love you” moments really do make it all worthwhile (for the most part).
This morning, Luke was acting up and we had a little discipline chat on the couch. At the end of which he stated, “I love you, Dad.”
And on Wednesday, when I returned after a long day of working on-site at a client’s, Luke was quite excited to see me. I was greeted by a wonderful, “I missed you, Dad.”
It was soon followed up by, as you might have guessed, a very satisfying, “Dad, I love you.”
Life doesn’t get much better than that.
I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’
