About 9 years ago I gave birth to a 9 lb 11 oz cherub with cheeks so chubby he could barely open his eyes. He instantly became known as "Smoochy". The funny thing is, several people who didn't really know each other called him that, without knowing anyone else called him that, which was beyond odd. Smoochy. We didn't name him that, you'll be glad to know, we decided Simon was the right name for this guy. Named for Simon the Zealot. I had a feeling he might be zealous. He is. Good call.
So Friday night, Isaac (Smoochy's big brother) had his first varsity football game, and I had a chest cold, so I stayed home. Smoochy stayed with me. We decided we'd make cookies for the Bishop, since I was going to be at a meeting he was coming to on Sunday. Yes, I'm aware that I have a rather strange life, filled with Smoochies and bishop cookies, and zealots. It's a blessing, really.
It was the first time we'd spent just the two of us in quite a while. It was bliss! We ate pomegranates and left-over Chinese food. We listened to the radio, played with the dog, spilled flour, made cookies, ate cookie dough. Laughed. Talked. Caught up on life. It's amazing how much a 4th grader knows. Even when his teachers think he's not listening, he is. My sweet son was born with an amazing sense of justice, and is ready to stand up for those who aren't able (or willing) to speak for themselves. (Even if he has to "snap a Z" to get my attention.)
I learned some things that were good to know. Samantha is still his best friend. He loves, LOVES I say, loves playing basketball. He loves science, and thinks Mr. Colby is pretty cool. And he loves his mother. He also reminded me how important it is to make cookies together some times. Even if I wasn't going to see the bishop, I just love to bake with my kids. Some of my best memories with my kids are making cookies with them. Like that one time we put cocoa powder in the chocolate chip recipe to see what would happen, and turned the mixer on too high and ended up covered in chocolate dust. That was awesome. I pray that CSI never has to swab my kitchen. They'd be so confused!
Eventually, we got in our pajamas and watched a little TV until everyone else got home. We had that wonderful comfortable feeling like we were the only two on the inside of an inside joke. I kissed his little chubby cheeks goodnight, and as I did, I saw my baby Smoochy in his face. I also saw another Smoochy that is starting to emerge. A growing-up Smoochy that will lose that angelic singing voice, and get facial hair, and try to pick me up when he realizes he's taller than me. (Why the heck do they ALL do that?)
I'm not ready for that Smoochy yet, so I'm really thankful that I had this wonderful, blessed moment in time with the Simon of right now.
Blessings!
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