Girl Germs

A little piece of me died two years ago.

My oldest son proclaimed that girls are gross and have germs. This included all girls - even his mom. He refused to hug me. He refused to kiss me. Redundantly, he informed me I had germs. I tried all the arsenal a loving mother has in her reportoire; bribery, blackmail, and trickery but to no avail. On the rare occasion I could get one little kiss out of him, he had that disgusted look on his face like he'd just ingested rat poison.

In defeat, I retreated into my figurative corner to lick my wounds. Then something amazing happened.

From my new vantage point, I saw what I had missed in my singular quest to get the coveted kiss or hug from my boy.

• He was asking me to wrestle with him more. If I am not mistaken, that's how boys hug their parents.
• He now slides into bed with me more often on lazy mornings and we talk and talk about whatever he wants. He doesn't cringe when he lays his head on my arm for support.
• He finds me anywhere I am in the house and sits close to me. This morning he found my chest of currency from different countries I have visited. We talked about world history since WWI, the Berlin Wall, Ronald Reagan, geography, banking and interest, how cold it gets in Antarctica, how he got each of his scars, etc. He sat right next to me with his hip touching mine on the loveseat.
• He calls me on the phone when he hears a creepy sound and I'm not home.
  
• He lets me tuck him in sometimes and tickle his back. Sometimes he even asks me to sing.
• When he's really tired at night, I sneak a kiss on his head and tell him that I love him. In a sleepy voice he replies, "I love you, Mom."

I miss the kisses and hugs but I'll take what I can get.