The large slab of chocolate I knew I had stored in the fridge had shrunk to half its size (I blamed a monster, but knew it was really the hubby), and when I divided it, both kids got much less chocolate than they normally did.
“Is that all?”, the four year old asked.
“At least you’ve three pieces”, I replied. “I didn’t get any.” I pretended to be upset.
“Take this”, he said thrusting a piece of chocolate into my mouth.
“Thank you so much, my darling”, I said, giving him a hug. “I don’t really want it. You have it.”
“No, you should have this”, he insisted, and didn’t leave till I took a tiny bite.
There are times when he exasperates me. Times when he makes me wonder what I did wrong to produce someone as obstinate as he. Times when I despair of ever getting him to do what I think is right.
But when he does something like this, my heart melts. I know that as long as I give him all the love he deserves, he will grow-up to be a decent human being. And in the ultimate analysis, isn't that the only thing that really matters?