Garlic

Last night, after I polished off a large plate of hummus and pita at a local Greek restaurant, I leaned in to Tyson to ask him a question.  He looked at me very seriously and said, "Mom, I have some bad news."  I replied, "Oh really?  What is it?"  And with a crooked smile he sweetly said, "Your breath smells really terrible."

Daddy's boy

As most nights, Tyson ended up sleeping in our bed last night - coming in around 3am with a fever.  Brendan is out of town, so he snuggled up next to me and fell asleep.  Around 5am, he started whimpering.  I asked him what was wrong, and he buried his face into the pillow, cried for a minute, and fell back to sleep.  In the morning, we had the following conversation:

Tyson: Do you know why I was crying?

Me: I figured you had a bad dream...is that why?

Tyson [tears welling up]: Yeah.  I had a goodbye dream.

Me: A goodbye dream?

Tyson: Daddy was saying goodbye to me.  [Lip quivering, tears now rolling...barely able to get the words out] Daddy was sad and he had to leave.

Me [hugging him tight]: It's ok, buddy.  He just went to Texas for work.  He'll be back tomorrow.

He recovered quickly and went off to play with Isla and Hayes.  A couple of hours went by, and Aunt Lizzie arrived.  I figured he was over it, and it was safe to relay the story.  I asked Tyson if he wanted to tell Aunt Lizzie about his dream.  As I was doing so, I looked over at him -- his eyes were again filled with tears, and his lower lip curled downwards as he tried to get the words out.  I scooped him up, wiped his eyes, and decided that I needed to file this story away.  Someday, we will tell it again.  Perhaps when he is a teenager, this story will remind him of how much he loves his Dad.