The Boy came up to dinner stating that he had a headache. He looks teary. Poor munchkin. Feed him a dose of advil. But he says light hurts. He eats a bit, (Most of his meat and some of his brocoli) excuses himself, I tell him he should go upstairs to read. The Man tells him the comic book he's been reading is by his nightside table.
All was quiet. The Man took off to his meeting. The Boy called me upstairs. Would I mind reading some Harry Potter to him? I snuggle up with him under the blankets.
We read quite a bit of Harry Potter. My voice got tired. We talk.
He tells me all about art camp. The colour wheel. How the purple turned out brown because somehow the yellow got in there. How he was going for green but realized as he was mixing the yellow and blue that turquoise lived more up to his vision.
"Oh, and I also made this colour. It was like hail."
"What colour is hail?"
"You'll just have to wait and see."
He says with an impish grin.
He announces he's hungry again. I offer old pizza, grilled cheese, quesadilla... Quesadilla. We hesitantly crawl out of bed. It's cold. He watches me make fry it up.
"Mom, I think you like to cook."
"I do. But quesadilla is just cheese on a tortilla, I like taking care of you."
He eats the entire quesadilla. "Man, I love these." I hope supper in bed is not a trend. Or one he won't take up until he's much older ... and someone he loves is taking care of him.
We talk about the camp and the kids. He tells me he doesn't talk to the girls. But he has met some "old friends." Philosophically he tells me, he's known A. since the first time he went to camp there and they always end up hanging out. How he likes the pool, if not the chlorine that gets in his eyes.
"I'm going to tell Owl and Big G. that I want to spend time with my family this weekend."
Awesome.
Family Vacation: "I'd like to go camping. Then to the Museum of Science and Tech."
I tell him about our trip to Toronto and Wonderland. He's excited. "Are you going to make me go on crazy rides?" (Me -- No. His dad-- maybe.)
I talk him into taking a bath so get the chlorine off his skin. He agrees as long as I stay in the bathroom and chat with him. He tells me about the jokes at camp. And how he makes the other kids laugh. Let the water out. He dries himself off. Lotion. Tickles. Laugh.
Soon it's more Potter then snuggles, then sleep.
Love just doesn't seem like a big enough word.
