For the Love of Four
Four may just be the perfect age.
Part toddler, part almost big kid, four-year-olds can speak well enough to sound nearly grown and unaware enough to say exactly what they mean. They are perhaps the most articulate demographic on the planet.
Mommy, I just want to have love with you real quick. And I know precisely what he means. He wants to snuggle up close for a few moments, give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then get back to business. Not too much love, just a little.
Recently, I overheard him talking earnestly to his big brother's neighborhood pal, You're my best friend because you never be's mean to me. All it takes to be his BFF is to never be's mean. Pretty simple. {And yes, be's has now become a working part of the whole family's vocabulary.}
His speech is still imperfect and I get teary as I imagine the day when he can properly say "S" at the beginning of a word. For now I relish 'tinky 'kunk {"stinky stunk"}, 'lushies {"slushies"}, 'poon {"spoon"}, and a whole host of words in which the beginning S is silent as he confidently commences with the next consonant.
Later this morning I'm going to a Mother's Day tea at his preschool. He told me that he made a tea cup for me. And that it's a surprise. Apparently in his four-year-old mind, surprise does not equal secret. I love that.
He whispers out loud. He hides something behind his back and thinks that it really is hidden. And he truly believes that being a superhero just means putting on the costume.
Every age is beautiful and each stage ushers in new gifts...
But there's just something magical about four.