I ate lunch with my son this morning.
No kidding. I am trying to make the most of the few weeks I have left before I return to work, so I took advantage of the 2 little boys being at school today to have lunch with Goliath. Only, it was really brunch because kindergarteners eat lunch at 10:30. In the morning. It's silly.
We worked out the plan before he left for school this morning. "Mommy, I want a Chick-Fil-A chicken sandwich with no pickles and some french fries and a lemonade." No problem. Except when I got to Chick-Fil-A at 10:10, they were still serving breakfast. I explained to the lady working the drive-thru intercom that I was having lunch with my 5-year-old son in 20 minutes and all he really wanted to eat was a chicken sandwich. The lunch kind. She checked with the manager, and they whipped up a special-order chicken sandwich just for me.
I would have been slightly embarrassed, but the look on Goliath's face was more than worth the extra trouble. We had a delightful brunch (although I only sipped a sweet tea, having just finished breakfast), and as he kissed me goodbye and headed to the playground, he said, "Mommy, that is the best chicken sandwich I ever did have. I love you VERY MUCH."
And I melted.