Last night we ate dinner outside on the patio. We love to do that when the weather's nice, but the one problem is keeping the boys in their seats long enough to finish. There are too many things for them to look at outside, and the toys they left behind to come to the table are sitting there in the yard and in the driveway, beckoning to them all through the meal.
Last night was no exception. I think it was Matthew who escaped the table first, followed shortly thereafter by Jonathan, who had at least FINISHED his meal. In a way, it's not so bad. Mark and I get to enjoy the rest of our meal getting our words in edgewise, and switching the conversation to topics that sometimes shouldn't be covered with the little guys present.
So there they were, playing at the edge of the wooded area. More or less behaving. All the sudden, Jonathan seemed to find something incredibly interesting. He picked it up, and started running back to the table, a look of high excitement on his face. I had no idea what was coming. A baby turtle? A feather? Some icky bug? No, it was a rock. In fact, it was a heart-shaped rock. Nothing more spectacular about it, except it was about the size of his palm, and it was indeed, a very distinct heart shape. He held it out, his eyes bright and shining, and brought it to me - "look Mommy, a heart-shaped rock!" I marveled, more at his fascination than the rock itself, until he said "it's for you, Mommy." Awwwwwww. Melt my heart, man. I added it to my collection of "very special things" on my bookshelf, and told him I would cherish it for life.
And I will.