Last night I was snuggling on the couch with Beckett before he went to bed, and we were laughing, and tickling each other, and being silly.  I said, “I love you, Beckett.” He said, “I love you, Achoo.” We giggled.

Then I asked him, “Beckett, what is love. What does love mean?”  He answered, “It’s a sign language.”

I laughed and questioned his logic. “A sign language? What do you mean? How is love a sign language?”

And my sweetest little three year old boy in the entire universe leaned over and gave me a soft kiss.  “That’s love.”  And then he put his arms around me, and hugged me, and said, “That’s love.”

“OH! A sign language! I see. I like that!”, I exclaimed proudly. 

Then he reached over and honked my nose, and poked me in the eye. “That is NOT love.” 

I didn’t want to argue with him, but even when I get honked or poked, smacked, or asked to SCOOT OVER!, when it comes to Beckett it’s all love to me.

   

 

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 9th, 2007 at 12:05 am and is filed under Journal Entries. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.