My son crawled into my bed before the sun rose and I wondered why he couldn’t sleep in a bit more.
He curled against me, his long limbs poking into each sensitive part of my body, and why can’t he still be as small as he was four years ago?
“Why are the dinosaurs gone?” he asked.
“You don’t know why?” I asked back, not wanting to get into existential questions quite so early in the morning.
“A meteorite hit the earth and wiped them out, but why can’t that happen now?”
I opened my eyes, squinted against the rising light and thought why is my kid so damn smart?
“Why don’t you cuddle me and not worry about that?”
My husband would say we should be honest with him, but why let a four-year-old in on the chaos and randomness of the world quite so young?
He will have plenty of time to worry about why the world might end and how to stopped it from happening when he gets older.
I kissed his head and said again, “Why don’t we cuddle all day, just you and me?”
My boy leaned his head back against me, his limbs tangling in mine, and why can’t this sweetness last forever?
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