Sweet Nothings

Tonight at dinner Jasper said, "Mama, I wish you were a baby so I could hold you." When he offers these sincere declarations of his love (several times a day he will bust out with, "Mama, I love you," or "I love you, Papa." ) his face is awash with adoration. I really believe he does wish I were a baby and he were my papa. Or that we were married. That he could be everyone and everything for me. I know that this kind of love is temporary, so I try to soak it up and lock it up forever. I especially try to keep this love in mind when he is totally driving me up the wall by taking his socks off three times before we have to leave for school or by emptying all of the salt and pepper into the salad bowl again.

His understanding of time and self and permanence and growth is quite different from our adult perception. He often says things like, "When I was a grown up, I ..." Or "One day when you're a baby, you'll be..." Maybe it's just an issue of verb conjugation. But I wonder if he really thinks that one day he will be the grown up and I will be the baby. Or that maybe the roles were reversed once upon a time (we have often shown him pictures of ourselves as children).

Maybe he's right.