The loveliest of developments apparently took place over our absent weekend: Mimi handed Wesley a cracker, and it is believed he said “thank you” in return. Grandpa, a witness to the occasion, believes to have heard those same two words. Swoon.
One thing I know for sure about my son: he is incredibly generous. It is true that his generosity with food sometimes grows as his stomach gets fuller, but often in the middle of eating his beloved strawberries, he will reach out his chubby little hand to drop one in your mouth instead. And he will walk over to a toy, grab it, and bring it to us as an offering – not because he wants you to play with him with it but simply because he wants you to have it. And this makes my heart dance. And for that, I always tell him “thank you.”
In some ways, this is done with conscious effort, in the sense that I am aware of my words and of telling him what a generous boy I think he is. In many other ways, it is simply the love language of our family. Craig often says thank you to me after cooking a meal, a (somewhat) regular everyday occurrence, seeing as we all have to eat. And I will say the same to him for any of the hundred of things he does: for putting out the trash, for doing the dishes, for fixing anything that’s broken, for everyday things people take for granted but are required to keep a house going. To me, they are all gestures of love that deserve thank yous.
I hope those words will come from Wesley’s lips naturally, with love, not because he is prompted by us or anyone to say them, not because they’re “magic words”, but because someone did something nice for him, and his heart, in turn, danced.