Eli is sitting at his little table in the corner of our kitchen, eating Cheerios. This is never a pretty sight, especially when he’s a little snuffly. He sees me watching him, and with much effort he scoots away from the table and toddles over to me. “Kiss?”
I survey, with no small amount of queasiness, the drool and snot and Cheerio debris on his face. “Kiss?” he asks a second time. It is a soft, insistent whisper. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek.
“No no no no no no. Kiss.” He thrusts his lips out.
There are times in every parent’s life when we must do things that defy our very nature. It crosses my mind to wipe his face first, but something tells me that doing so would damage the delicate innocence of this moment. So I kiss his wet, messy, expectant little lips.
“Mmmwaaah,” he exclaims. “Good kiss!”
Yes, it was.