Thursday, March 1, 2012
The other day, mid-migraine, I was walking into the kitchen to pour my 4-year old some more apple juice. Very unsteady on my feet, I slowly made my way to the fridge, my son bouncing along ahead of me. He, of course, reached the fridge before me. About a step or two behind him, I stumbled, lurching forward a bit--without missing a beat, my Little Man reached out his tiny hand and grasped my hand, as if he was going to steady me or catch me (luckily, I was close enough to the counter to grab ahold of it). This event touched me deeply, in a lot of ways. I thought it was just too cute, that he thought he could catch me or hold me if I did actually fall. I felt pride in my son for behaving in a caring, chivalrous manner. I felt loved and valued. My little knight.