When Jesse goes down for his nap, he usually chooses one of his stuffed animals to snuggle with. I don't always see which one he chooses because he often snags one of the ones scattered on his bed or lined up in the cubbies of his headboard, and it's usually after I've already gone downstairs. Then, half the time he wakes up from his nap and comes down on his own, so I don't know what he chose to sleep with that day.
But the other Saturday afternoon Jesse was sleeping late and I decided I should probably wake him up so we would all get a decent night's sleep that night. ;) I tip-toed up the stairs and pushed the door to his room fully open. I quietly walked in, ready to enjoy the always adorable sight (on so many levels) of a sleeping child.
There he was, completely sacked out, his little hand clutching something.
It didn't take two seconds to see that what he had chosen as his special snuggle item wasn't from the myriad of favorite stuffed animals. It was not one of his plastic dinosaurs, or even just a handful of his Noah's Ark blanket.
I drew in a small breath and stood in quiet stillness, the gentle rhthym of his breathing the only small sound in the room. I felt a hot pricking behind my eyelids, and maybe swiped a hand across some wetness on my face.
In his hands was a picture of our little family.