My temperamental three-year-old Henry has delighted me with his patience and joy today. We just returned home from a tantrum-free trip to the grocery store--which NEVER happens. I feel so zen and calm after this tear-and-scream-free trip that it feels like the grocers served Martinis at check-out and on aisle 12.
After we happily put away all the food, I hopped onto my computer. I heard thuds and grunts and something being zipped up. I walked into the kitchen to find Henry zipping up his lunch box. I figured he'd tell me he'd packed a "lunch" for school tomorrow consisting of pretzels and Oreos. But instead, he opened his lunch box and showed all of my wrist and ankle weights. When I asked what he was doing, I received this reply,
"I'm zippering this up. I'm packing for college. I have to take this to college."
Tears sprung to my eyes. My heart lurched and ached--I know, as all mothers do, that my time with my children is finite. Moments like these shine a harsh light on that reality. Henry then turned to leave for "college", lunch box in hand. Luckily, before he left the room, he said,
"Come on Mom, you have to come with me." Heart healed just a bit. God I love that little boy.