When my oldest son, Ethan, was between the ages of 7 and 9, he would occasionally ask me to come cuddle with him in his bed. Even if I sometimes had something else I wanted to be doing or should’ve been doing, I always enjoyed those times that I had to chat for a few minutes as he drifted off to sleep in my arms.
Now that he’s 11, he’s too old to want to cuddle with his dad, of course. But I miss it dearly.
I thought about those cuddles at about midnight last night when I was trying to find a comfortable position for my middle-aged body on the floor of our old purple and gray tent in the backyard. Our grass, still in hibernation from the winter cold, is about as soft and smooth as the asphalt on Utah’s pot-hole-ridden streets.
But about an hour and a half earlier, Ethan had posed a question that I couldn’t refuse. [Read more…]