08 December 2012

A Quiver in the Arrow in my Quiver

This morning, while the SBOAM took #1 and #2 out for donuts, I was snuggling with #3 in my bed after I gave him breakfast.

I was explaining to him that one day, some pretty little thing is going to sweep in and fall madly deeply in love with him

And he said, "But mom, no on can be as pretty as you..."

And I said, "I know son, i know. But love blinds a man. And that's the thing, she won't just love you, but you will love her too! "

And he said "gasp! No mommy....I will never love any other woman but you! I do not feel good about this."

And I said, "I know you feel that way now, but apparently you are but an arrow in my quiver and I am to send you out and there is a good chance that will involve a pretty little thing."

And he said , "I do not feel good. I do feel a quiver."

And then he proceeded to throw up his entire breakfast. All over me. All over him. All over my bed.

So I got up changed myself, changed him, took the sheets and bedding and clothes to the laundry picked him up, suctioned out his nose, fed him again, and looked into his bright, handsome eyes, and said:

"You're right son. No one will ever love you like I do."

(I think he was a little young to stomach this conversation.)

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