Proud mother bragging
I’m sorry, but I can’t help myself: I need to brag!
My 7 year old son just came back from a party, oh, disco party actually.
Before he went, he wanted proper equipment. The gift he wrapped himself. He wrote the card. Of course he chose to wear a shirt and tie, but also a tiny blinking lasersword. In order to add to the disco feeling, you see.
Picking him up afterwards, the father of the birthday girl, host of the evening, grabbed my husband’s hand, looking him straight into his eyes and said: What a guy! He was the best part of this party!
You just can’t hear that enough as a parent.
First thing he does then, coming home, is handing a glow-in-the-dark-bracelet to his little brother. He saved it from the party. They hide in the closet, laughing, making cool patterns of light in the dark. He also saved all his candy. He’ll share it with the rest of us tomorrow, he says. I say he’s too kind, it’s so nice of him, but really, his father and I will not eat of his candy. Then we hug and kiss and he’s off to bed. There they lie next to each other, giggling.
I love my sons.