Childhoods are Golden

My son had a slumber party a few nights ago. As I was listening to their giggles, I started to remember all the good times I used to have when I was their age; playing dress-up, imitating Joker and Batman, or trying to make up excuses so my little brother (since he was a boy) couldn't play with us girls.  

Without saying a single word, he doesn't allow me to forget my childhood. I am reminded of how happy I used to be at his age. For that, I'm pretty thankful for the reemerging memories. So when he wants to be with his best friends instead of hanging out with "Mommy", then I'm perfectly content with that. He's just enjoying his childhood.

I'm certain that my little boy will be waving goodbye as he drives off to his new life sooner than I'd like him to. So for now, I am enjoying the sound of his innocent giggling as his friends tell him jokes. The constant popping noise of Nerf Darts against the wall isn't a big deal. I don't even mind that he yells for me  ("MOM!!" )  when he and his best buds need a snack. After all, putting together Legos is such hard work!  

Before he goes to bed, he whispers so low that his best friends won't hear what he truly likes to call me, "I love you, mommy".

I smile, trying not to baby him too much, but I just can't resist the urge to respond, "I love you too, my little man".

He pulls the covers over his head because his face is probably red from embarrassment. The moment is worth more than all the freckles on his face and the hundreds of Lego pieces spread all over his bedroom carpet.

I loved my childhood, but I especially love experiencing his even more.