In the eyes of children, and probably every one else, my husband is just more fun than I am. He's funny, and still remembers how to play. When a five-year old instructs him that "now pretend I'm invisible" he knows how to make them believe that he really can't see them. And, in a show of patience that I can't even imagine, he can usually keep it up until the child runs out of steam, not when he gets bored. I struggle to play this way because I just can't drop the facade of an in-control adult.
Until I had my own kid... and saw her smile... and heard her laugh. And it is magical. I will ANYTHING to see her smile and hear her laugh. I will dance in the kitchen, I will make funny loud noises in the grocery store, I will make faces, whatever it is that makes her happy. Because there is no payment better than helping my child be happy.
(Which has the unintended consequence that when I'm mad about something, my husband makes me look at Leni, who will always smile at me. I can't be mad any longer, so if I'm determined to be mad, it's important not to look at her.)
1 comment:
You be in real trouble in a year from now, when you are mad and your husband tells her to go give mommy a hug. I always think my husband is cheating when he does that. We say jobo's job in the family is to keep mommy happy.
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