Ian loves to snuggle, but with no one so much as his Mommy. I’ll get a hug if I ask for it; two or three if I force the issue. He gives me Pavlovian pecks on the cheek as I leave for work. But after his bath, when he’s warm and nestled in his pajamas, it’s Kelly’s lap he seeks. I wash, I dry, I dress, and I’m left holding the towel.
So I’ll admit it: I love when Ian’s sick. Sure he’s sniffly and gooey and his nose is crusted with snot-frost. Yes, his body is wracked with hacking coughs. But from that misery comes the sweetest joy of a doleful three-year-old looking for solace.
I stayed home with Ian on Friday night, while Kelly helped with her mother’s improv show. We drank tea and watched Curious George. I gave him a bubble bath. At least five times throughout the evening, Ian launched himself at me, and wrapped his arms around my chest. ‘I love you!’
Ian seems to be feeling better today. Anyone need a play-date for their sick kid?