boy meets world

I used to be his whole world.  I used to wish I weren't.  Give me a minute, I would think, and sometimes say, to his fuzzy little head as it bobbed around my legs by the stove.  He never would abide by my wishes, and I continued to trip over him while skipping from the bubbling sauce to the browning rolls.

And now, I am no longer his whole world.  Bright has made relationships outside the home, with good little boys for whom I am grateful every day.  My son talks on and on for hours about these relationships, and the computer games and action heroes and (lame) jokes that bind them.  He has picked up some of their nuances, and they his.  This is the stuff that will contextualize his entire existence from here on out (until he meets Miss Right).

No matter how nice it is to see my kids thriving, it would also be nice, just one more time, to trip over Bright in the kitchen...