Rooster Style

My Roo loses teeth a bit like how he was born... slowly, needing a tug or two, and in somewhat of a dramatic fashion. He does things his way, that sweet boy of ours, and tonight he lost a tooth Rooster-style.

For the last few days, he has started crying unexpectedly. It caught us off guard. He isn't prone to fits of sadness. But what really threw me? When I asked him what upset him, he said, "I am going to miss you when you die, Mama." The mantra he tells me lately: "Mommy, you are going to get old, and then I'm going to be alone. I don't want you and daddy to die."

My husband wants me to tell our boy that we will never die. I can't lie, though --- it's virtually beyond my powers to tell lies. Plus, what would the DEITIES do with such a pronouncement? So I tell my boy, "I have no plans to go away, my love, I'm right here with you now, hoping to be here a very long time, and I love taking care of you. Let's go make some happy memories right now, okay?" He dries his eyes and nods.

There are people who know my boy who can't stand his unique ways; they find him too loud, it bothers them how he takes his own time meander along while they race from A to Z, and they would like to control him, soften his dramatic edges. But there are others who respond to him with an affection similar to that which he stirs in me, who catch his contagious enthusiasm and delight in it. These people make a point to tell me things like, "You know, he is a special boy." I realize lately that I divide the world into these two camps, and lately I only have heart for the latter. Someday I hope to have the patience and good will to reach out to the others, to teach them the error of their ways, to help enlighten them to what they miss when they choose not to make a friend in my little guy. For now, though, I have no time for anyone who does not dearly love a little boy with a jack-o-lantern grin, an elfish run, and a heart bigger than the sun and moon and stars.