Little Boys Love Their Mammas

Totally let down by a movie that I had gargantuan expectations from and reeling from a sudden and totally unexpected fight that escalated to a barrage of rude SMSes, I felt the picture of depression. I must have looked it too, with my drooped shoulders, smarting eyes and hunched back.

I walked in, looking like this, to a room filled with 'strange' women. My MIL was having a meeting of her ladies' association at home. I knew, of course, since she had asked me if I would please make the dessert. In fact, I was rushing home to put the finishing touches on it, but I didn't count on them already being there.

Before I could straighten myself up, shake the blues off, put on a mask and a fake smile, something happened that drenched my insides and left me a gooey pile of love.

My little one, screaming "MAMMA! MAMMA! MAMMMMMAAAAA!!!" appeared out of thin air and faster than Superman came hurtling towards me, throwing himself at me and wrapping his arms around my legs, his face looking straight into my face, his eyes shining with that heart-melting mixture of love and happiness. Not once caring that he had an audience, he held on tightly and wouldn't let go. Of course, since the audience was comprised of women in the Grandmother Zone, they all melted into a pool of mush.

The tight, (teddy) bear hug probably lasted for ten-fisteen seconds and as soon as he got my big, slurpy kisses, he was gone as quick as he came, like a flash of lightening.

A few seconds, that's all it was, but the consequence of those few moments was so blissful, so uplifting, so rejuvenating.

It's this love of this little boy for his mamma, that keeps me going.