Apr. 21: Kisses and cure-alls

Jack started this thing with me a long time ago, where I blow him a kiss and then he “catches” it in the air and shoves it in his pocket to save it. Eventually he started blowing kisses back to me, so I always have a pocketful of kisses from my boy. Before he goes to bed, we have a routine: he kisses me on the lips and cheek, then hugs me, then kisses my hand, and then we blow kisses to each other and put them in our pockets.

You’re probably thinking, “Oh, how sweet!” (except Chris, who’s probably thinking “Ew, germs!”). But quite frankly, the precious-ness of this ritual disappeared a long time ago, because on your average day, it happens over and over. Most the time—even though he’s the one to start the whole thing—he doesn’t even make eye contact because he’s in a hurry to get back to Phineas & Ferb (if you don’t know, don’t ask...) or Katie’s racing him upstairs. It’s one of those rote things I figure he doesn’t even think about anymore.

I just dropped him off at school because we were running late and missed the bus. He was taking his time getting out of the car and I was frustrated that he—like every other Manullang male—has no concept of time. Just before he opened the door he blew me a kiss. I hastily blew one back and said, “Now, go!” through my clenched teeth. Jack caught my kiss and with what appeared to be seriousness he said, “Thanks, Mom. I really needed that today.”

I think my heart actually skipped a beat. He slammed the door and ran off to catch up with Josh and Jayson. And I drove to New Seasons feeling like an insensitive clod of a mom.

Fortunately, the macaroni and cheese at New Seasons fixes anything. Because, well, yum.