Every night of Jedi’s life where it’s been feasibly possible, save for when I was in the hospital giving birth to his siblings for example, I have given him a kiss as he’s headed off to bed. I dispense three, to be exact, along with the same declarations every time. I love you, good night, sweet dreams. No matter my mood the rest of the day, I also tell him he’s such a great kid. My night doesn’t feel complete unless this occurs.
The other night, our schedules didn’t align. J put Jedi down before I could get Abby settled. When I was able to peek in his door, it appeared he was already fast asleep. He didn’t wait for me, I thought. Sad at missing the first unwarranted case in memory, I closed the door and lingered somberly off to bed.
I know he’s growing older, about to enter the demanding world of 1st grade. This could be another stage passing by. It’s likely our routine means a lot more to me than it does to him. Our kisses goodnight aren’t going to matter forever. Still, I sighed myself to sleep feeling sullen and dejected.
The following morning at 6 a.m. I’m awakened by Jedi standing over my bed.
“You didn’t give me a kiss goodnight!”, he sleepily accused, upset.
“You were asleep!”, as I passed the blame in a direct whisper.
“Next time YOU WAKE ME UP!”, he demanded.
After thinking he might not care anymore, it’s nice to know my big kid is still my little boy and he missed it just the same. Though it might have been a bit nicer if he waited to chide me until a time later than 6 a.m.