I've said it before and I'll say it again. Number Two is surly. He is loath to smile unless someone physically exerts herself to pull a grin from those two straight lips. But not today. Not after the introduction of the red bow. The kid was beaming from ear to ear.
Until that moment, The Boss had co-opted all my excitement about the upcoming holiday. It's the first Christmas for which she is truly cognizant of the wonder. I'm as abuzz with anticipation as she is. I can already hear her stuttering incredulity on Christmas morning as she bounces with the language of a three year old who has more experience than words.
We weren't planning to bring many gifts for Number Two when we spend Christmas Eve and then that morning with The Partner's parents. We figured he doesn't need them; don't think he wants them; and are sure there won't be much room next to his car seat when we come home from his grandparent's house with their sled-ful of gifts. But now that I've seen the way a smile lit his face all the while that ribbon laced his fingers, I want to wrap up everything I see.
It's so easy when they love the simple things. There's something pure about the gratification that I feel as a mother when my son exhibits a sense of joy just for being. It's a Christmas message that's been wrapped too tightly for me to take the time to open this season. But now I've got it.
I'm handing him the shiny ribbon. I'm watching him play.