Hundred-Bunches

Sometimes, when the kids are sleeping, I find myself just sitting watching one or the other sleep peacefully – bliss never looking so amazingly beautiful or completely quiet. These times usually occur when I cannot find that sleep-time peace myself, something that happens more often than not since my divorce.

On one of those particular nights, I had eventually fallen asleep on the floor in my son’s room. I don’t know how long I had been sleeping, or even how long my boy, (we’ll call him “L” from here on), had been standing there watching me sleep, his thumb jammed haphazardly into his mouth.

L – “Dad. Daddy…whatcha doin?”
Me – “Sleepin. What are you doin?”
L – “Nothin.”
Me – “Oh. You ok?”
L – long pause…”Yeah.  Love you hundred-bunches.”
Me – “I love you too buddy.”
L – “I’m goin back to bed daddy.”
Me – “Ok buddy. Sleep well.”

L snorted, smile-yawned, and jumped back in his bed flinging the covers over his little body, rolling over with a content sigh-snort. Within moments his soft snores told me he was back off – running through the fields of his dream lands.

Sometimes when I don’t think I can possibly love my children any more than I already do…sometimes, something like this happens.

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