{it’s blurry, but it’s just so Asa!}
His chubby little legs pump up and down as he makes laps around the island, the stairs, the couch and back to the kitchen island again. His soft feathery hair is dancing around on top of his head. The spot where his sister cut a chunk out (“he said he wanted me to!”) is wild in the wind. His dimples are as deep as the sea and he shreiks with glee,
“You can’t catch me! I’m the gingerbread man!”
He’s yelling it to all of us. To anyone that will chase after him and attack him with tickles and kisses.
When I chase after him and pin him to the ground, he giggles and screams, “No, Mommy! Noo!” But it’s too late, that gingerbread taunt could not be ignored.
I know one day he’d never dream of asking me to chase him.
But I always will.
God gave him to me, not just for me to enjoy, but to do the opposite of the Gingerbread Man’s family–to let him go. And although it pains me to think about it now, I’m excited.
{Ack! My 5 minute timer just went off! I did have more to say! Oh well, you’ll just have to wonder, won’t you?!}
linked to the Gypsy Mama’s writing prompt carnival, Five Minute Fridays.
