Remember this post about my 4-year old son’s bee? Well, after not mentioning it for TWO WHOLE DAYS I
could take it no more and finally asked him, “Have you thought about your bee?”
I did it for me, y’all.
I want him to have that bee. I need him to have that bee.
He’s my baby. He’s the last one. And while I don’t desire to get pregnant, stay sick for a good portion of my pregnancy, gain weight, have back aches, go through labor and delivery and then spend a good portion of the night getting up to feed and change a baby, I’d do it again just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
Because I don’t want to miss anything. After I asked him about his bee, he got a little teary since IT WAS BEDTIME FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD. He asked for it and I told him that I’d get it for him.
The bee, it is back. And it barely covers his body.
And in a sick, sort of way, I am glad.