This morning when Charlie woke up, he was in a cuddly mood. Some morning he pops right up and is ready to go wake his sister and wreak havoc on the house, and other mornings he is sweet and likes to sit a bit while getting his bearings. This morning was the latter. The pitch-black mornings do have their benefits.
As I plucked him from his bed, he put his head on my shoulder and snuggled in while I opened the blinds. We sat down in the chair, and he asked in the sleepiest voice possible, "Mama, how do you fall in love?"
It was a lot for 6:45 a.m., but I rallied.
"Well," I said, "You meet someone who is kind, and caring, and smart and funny, and because of that, you just want to spend all of your time with them. And they make you happy, and that makes your heart happy."
"Okay," he responded, and then paused to process this. But not for too long, because a second later, he piped up again.
"Mama, you are a rocket ship, and we are blasting off into space!" he declared. "And I just tooted on you."
