How to Love

We were having dinner at a local Mexican cantina that we found The Boy, Teen 2, hubby, and I.

The Boy is a restless eater.
He can never sit still.
At home, he leans back on the chairs lays down,
rolls around in the chairs
slips out from under the dining table to fetch a glass of this or that

At the restaurant, he finishes a portion of his taco plate
stands up and makes his way over to me

I look at his little face thats growing and changing
I stare into his warewolf eyeballs that change colors
I admire the little freckles across the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks

I look at his face, pull him in close to me and say "I love you son"
He looks at me, smiles, then turns away.

Son, I love you. I repeat.
He gives me that one raised eyebrow crooked face.

Tell me, you love me. I plea.
I look at his dad with that "you better make him tell me he loves me" face.
Hubby nudges the boy, tell your mom. iloveyou.

he quickly says without looking at me.
Sheesh, who taught you how to love, your dad? I ask.
With a straight face, he looks at me and replies- Little Wayne.