Jackson, my three year old son, has gotten into the habit of requesting “words” at bedtime. After reading a story or two, he lies on his belly and says, “Mommy, write J for Jackson,” and I know this means that he wants me to trace the letters of his name onto his back.
He instantly softens as I spell out his name for him. “J….A….C…K….S….O…N….” He is almost asleep by the time I get to the last letter. It’s adorable, if I do say so myself.
Then he sits up, and turns over excitedly. “Now do me this way.” He lies down on his back this time, and a trace the letters into his tummy. “J….A…C….K…S…O…N…”
Over and over we do one side, then the other. We spell Jackson, Mommy, Love. We do upper case and lower case. It’s enough to melt your heart.
Last night, right in the middle of our little ritual, Jackson wondered aloud, “Why doesn’t Jaba the Hutt have any weapons?”
“Huh. Maybe because he has so many guards to protect him?” I suggested. Then I continued our words. Star Wars has proven to be waaaaay to exciting for bedtime in the past.
“Oh…” Jackson was thoughtful for a second. Then he said, “Can you spell Jaba-the-Hutt’s Guards?”
I sighed. This kid and his Star Wars obsession. Sheesh. “Okay,” I sighed. “J…A…B…A….”
Jackson’s eyelids grew heavy and he sighed contentedly. By the time we reached “Guards” his eyes were closed. “Goodnight little Jedi,” I whispered.