I was downstairs working when Abel woke up this morning.
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you come up?
"Yup!"
I went upstairs, went into his room, where he was hiding under the blankets, and turned off his humidifier.
"Can you lie down with me?"
"Sure!" This has been a trend this week, where he asks me to lie down, looks right at me with his big blue eyes still hazy with sleep, and says something very, very sweet.
So I grab a blanket that has fallen to the floor, lie on my side facing him, and snuggle in.
"Mom?" he asks, his eyes growing clearer and more alert.
"Mmmmm . . . ?" I am hoping for something good, a little tidbit to launch my day into greatness.
"Ha HAAAAAAA!" he shouts, pulling a curved plastic pirate sword from under the covers, and brandishing it in the air, just inches from my face.
"Are you a pirate?"
"No, but I slept with this in my bed."
Good morning indeed, my son. Every day has its treasures.
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