popcorn

The popcorn slowed, then almost stopped. Unplug, turn into the bowl, salt... back into the living room to snuggle with the boy. He is almost six now, and any chance to snuggle is taken, savored, and cataloged into memory. He's watching the movie, and doesn't mind when I touch his head, smooth his hair. His focus is on popcorn and mindless entertainment and I'm simply a prop in this scene.

And then he turns, "I love you mama" and I get a smile. He turns back to the television and I'm whole again. He leans back against me, relaxed, secure. His world is good. My world is good.

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