I stare at the computer screen, bleary eyed, sipping coffee while I sort my morning emails.

 

He appears beside me, four years old and unaffected by the morning.

“Mom?”

 

I continue to sort.

“Mom?”

 

Still I don’t respond.

“MOM!”

 

Roused by the increasing insistence of his plea I match his volume, annoyed.

“HMMMMM?”

 

Finally, willing to finish his sentence, he calmly says,

“Mom, how do you spell love?”

 

When I managed to return to physical form after melting into a pile of gooey mommy shame, I grab him by the head, pull him into my lap, and kiss as much l-o-v-e into his forehead as he can stand.

 

-Jessica