...and then it does and your breath catches in your throat and your stomach becomes a stone and tears turn light-bulbs into brilliant stars.
Yeah. That's how I felt last night when I watched my son display his love for me and for his Daddy. It was crushing, the weight of my love, and it made my head reel.
See, there is a bookshelf in our hallway on which several Mommy-Daddy pictures live... you know, those "cute couple" shots from when we were dating. I'd noticed that, from time to time, said pictures move around on the shelf. After dinner yesterday, I watched Jack toddle out of the dining room and pass the shelf. He paused for a moment and then started picking up each picture frame individually and plant a kiss on my face, then Dadda's face before gingerly replacing the photograph.
He did this for each photo until he reached the final one, which happens to be a picture of just me. He looked at it, touched my face, kissed it, then clutched the frame to his chest in a tender hug and put it back in place before scampering off to make train noises and build this 15th mile of wooden railway track of the day and play peek-a-boo with his sisters.
He had no idea I was watching him.
I had no idea he was so sentimental.
I mean, I knew he loves me. He tells me so all the time. He kisses me and hugs me and asks for cuddles...
But this was special. It was beyond touching. It was... profound.
My son is nearly 3 years old.
And he is the most incredible human being I've ever met.
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