His body is warm. His hair is tousled. He reaches his arms up to me and I lift him up. He rests his head on my shoulder and wraps his legs around my waist. I wrap my arms around him.
I sit down on the couch and pull a wool blanket around the boy. He leans into me. We cuddle while we watch his sister watching a video.
He starts to cry. What's wrong? I ask him. Papa he says. You want daddy? I ask. Yes.
I put the phone on speaker and the boy mumbles and nods his head as the husband's voice fills the room. Nothing is really said, but it's enough.
We say goodbye.
Comfort oozes from this post. :)
ReplyDeletePapa--my father was "Papa". It's what my husband wants to be called too. There's something so familiar about that name.
ReplyDelete