When They Were Small

When my children were small, they wanted to have me…

… read them stories,

… play tickle-slide on our swing-set in the backyard,

… take them out on “dates”,

… marry them, and have Mom be the “maid” (or for one of them, the “cow”),

… be their best buddy.

… let them sit on my lap,

… kiss away their “boo-boo”,

… play “P-I-G” with them on our basketball hoop in the driveway,

… let them ask me questions,

… help them catch fireflies in a jar,

… run silly races around our house,

… listen while they told me EVERYTHING,

… watch them while they did ANYTHING,

… play with them in the bathtub,

… hold their hand,

… throw them high in the pool,

… see them dance,

… dance with them,

… and tuck them in.

But now they are not small. 

They are big. 

I love them more than words could express, and am proud of them. We talk and email, text and tweet, every day. We spend time with each other every chance we have. I can’t imagine us being closer. They are still, and will always be, my sons and daughters.  

But some days, I wish they were,

… small.

James Emery White