I was waiting at the drive through window at the best burger joint in town with my 3 year old in the backseat.  We were bringing home dinner for the crew and having some quality alone time.

We laughed and giggled and I listened to his ever-so-important-to-a-three-year-old conversation that usually contains references to poo-poo, a retelling of the day’s events and several words that I just can’t interpret. 

 And this huge welling of love rose up in me as I listened to my ‘baby’ share his deep thoughts and perspectives on life.  In a rush of emotion I needed to rub his baby soft pudgy skin so I asked him if I could hold his hand while we waited for our burgers.

It was a beautiful moment.

My son said, “Shoor, Mom,” and then….

SPIT A BIG LOOGY INTO HIS HAND AND REACHED OUT TO SHAKE LIKE WE WERE MAKING A SPIT PACT!!! 

Oh. Yes. He. Did.

Sometimes I forget that I’m the mother of boys.