I used to dread the minutes after Robbie had his pajamas on. There's the struggle to read a book. The cries of, "Down! Down!" Trying to squeeze in a few words of prayers. And then the desperate tears to not leave him in his crib.
But tonight? Tonight was different. Tonight, Robbie curled up in my arms, laid his head on my shoulder, and drank his milk. Tonight, he held on tight while I rocked him and enjoyed a few moments of quiet. I even got all the way through our prayers. Even through blessing the animals.
When I tried to put Robbie down, the tears welled up in his eyes. He grabbed my arms and tried to climb out of his crib. And I fell for it. Hook. Line. And sinker. I knew he would wait for me to get to the rocking chair before he tried to make his escape. Except he didn't. He just attached himself to me, placing his head on my shoulder and his arm around my neck. Robbie paid rapt attention while I read two books and never made a move to slide off my lap. He gave me kisses before going back to bed and played peek-a-boo before settling down to read himself to sleep.
I don't know what prompted Roberto to play the role of doting, cuddly son. But his timing was perfect.
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