“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind, “Pooh!,” he whispered.
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”
Katie and I were sitting on the floor in our office a couple of days ago. I don’t remember how it was that we came to be sitting on the floor, but it matters not. Some of our best conversations seem to happen below furniture level.
“Yes, sweet love?”
“Why don’t you hold me when you give me a piggy back ride?”
“What’s that, baby? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Well, you hold onto Brooke when you give her a piggy back ride, but you don’t hold onto me.”
“Oh. Well, um. Hmm. The thing is, sweet girl, I feel like I need to hold on to Brooke. I’m not always sure that she knows that she has to hold on to me. I worry that she might forget or get distracted and let go. But I know that a big girl like you will know to hold on, so I don’t worry.”
“Could you not stop holding me?”
Someday I’ll write a post that does not include some version of the following sentence, but today is not that day.
I fought back tears.
“I’ll never stop holding you, baby.”