15 minutes ago my fella was responding to my screAms! Like a superhero he swooped outside and delivered me from evil—-the SNAKE inhabiting my stadium seat.
He calmed down the crying little one and the BIG ONE (me) that wanted to cry.
Segue: in my defense that thing was couled under the blanket that was part of the seat. I reached down to pick up the seat and it MOVED!)
Back to the story—Like his grandpa taught him he checked to be sure it was black and than he forbade me to kill it. “We need it mama. It kills rats,” at which point my freak out ramped up a notch.
After assuring me there were no rats he eased the darned thing into the bushes and gave me his ‘it’s-gonna-be-okay-mama’ crooked smile.
Minutes later the girl and I are on the front porch-as far away from the snake as we could get. We are painting our nails. The conquering hero swoops in and saves the day again. This time by painting his little sisters toenails. Pure sweetness. Be still my heart.
“Your toes are so little,” he remarked at one point. “Oops-I am not too good at this,” he said while reaching down to clean up some errant color.
“Oh yes you are bubba.” Admonishes little miss. “You are da best Bubba ev-ah. You are da bestest. Bubba,” she’s gentle but firm and is speaking to him as a teacher would to an upset child. “You are do-od. You are da best bubba. You pulled my tooth,” and that was that. Her allowing him to pull her tooth was the height of trust and she didn’t need to say anything else to prove it. “You missed as spot.”
The little toes weren’t even dry before she enticed him to play hide-n-seek. He willingly went along. Even going so far as to walk right by her when her “hiding” place was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk covering HER eyes despite the fact that he was it.
Soon he’d stalled as long as he could and he found her. While she counted he ran around the house. She got to 10-popped up and looked in the bushes, on the sidewalk and behind the column. “Mama!” She cries. “I’ve lost my bubba. I taint (translation: can’t) fine (d’s give her trouble) him anywhere. Help me. We need our bubba! We need him!”
Yes baby we do. We need our bubba. Our little man. Our hero. Our snake slayer-our toe-nail painter. So we found him.
I look up from writing this to find my darlings having dance lessons in the porch. If you asked me what I wanted for mothers day I wouldn’t have known to have asked for this moment—but it’s all I could ever want. My big boy and my little gal waltzing around the front porch. He dips her and her giggles fill the night. In turn, his giggles are infectious when she tries to return the favor and dip him.
Happy mama. That’s what I am.