After lunch today, Vito was calling his Papa, who was locked up in the bedroom, writing. Vito wanted to play even though he knew that after lunch is his father's work time. So I went over to play with him and he said, "Not you, Mama. I don't want you."
"I know, baby, but you also know that Papa's working so it'll have to be me."
"But I don't want you here," he puffed, annoyed. "Only Papa."
"Oh," I said.
He saw me standing there awkwardly and then he sighed almost sadly. He put down his toy, went up to me, pulled me down to him, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Mama, I love you but I love Papa more. Are you okay?"
And funnily enough, as my heart swelled to see the great love my son had for his father, I realized that I was telling the truth when I replied, "Yes, that's okay. I'm very okay with that."
* * * * * * *
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"I know, baby, but you also know that Papa's working so it'll have to be me."
"But I don't want you here," he puffed, annoyed. "Only Papa."
"Oh," I said.
He saw me standing there awkwardly and then he sighed almost sadly. He put down his toy, went up to me, pulled me down to him, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Mama, I love you but I love Papa more. Are you okay?"
And funnily enough, as my heart swelled to see the great love my son had for his father, I realized that I was telling the truth when I replied, "Yes, that's okay. I'm very okay with that."
* * * * * * *
P.S.
Like me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
Love me on Bloglovin'