I’m busy this week, meaning that there is very little in the way of a blog post. However, a short one about something amazing should be enough.
Yesterday evening, for no reason, I started singing ‘The Time Of My Life’ – yes, that one. Just the first line (So ending on a very sexy, deep voiced ‘And I owe it all to youuuu’) I sang it at my Son – I say at, because to say I sang it ‘To’ him would mean that I wasn’t 5 inches from his face, following him around the living room the whole time. If ever a Dirty Dancing song has been sung in an intimidating fashion, this was a perfect example.
I repeated this line about 12 times, following my son around. He surprisingly didn’t call the NSPCC, instead, he found it funny (which thankfully, was the intention)
Afterwards, for fun, I puckered my lips and asked for a kiss. No particular reason, we always find it funny the way Ned avoids kisses from his parents, so I just wanted to mess about more (I’d grown sick of the song)
To mine and Claires amazement, something extraordinary happened.
Ned calmly walked over to me, and gave me a kiss.
I say kiss, I mean open mouthed headbutt, leading with his lips, directed at my lips – but it was unmistakingly a kiss, and by no one was taking that away from me.
I puckered up again.
Again, I got a kiss. It wasn’t a one off.
Here is visual evidence:
Claire tried. She got a kiss too.
Suddenly a dust cloud appeared, it got in my eyes, they started watering and that definately happened.
This was one of the greatest nights of my Parenthood.
Stupid dusty living room.