Guess what he got, shortly after this.
Yesterday we said a tearful goodbye to our friends Sarah and Tallulah. Or rather, I was tearful--it's sort of my resting state these days--and Henry was sulky. As we walked home he asked me why I looked sad.
"I'm going to miss our friends," I said. And Henry replied, "I'm not going to miss them."
"Really," I said.
He stopped walking and clenched his fists. "I'm not going to miss them," he wept, "Because I. AM NOT. MOVING."
I picked him up. He dampened my shirt with his tears. Then wiped his nose on me for good measure.
"I don't want to move," he said. "I want a cookie."










April 28, 2006
Reader Comments (70)
Give Henry lots of hugs from me, and tell him I hope he has fun squatting at your old place.
I want a cookie too. And a tissue (sniff).
But you know what? Recently I have been itching to live someplace new. We have been in our current house since 1998. That's eight years? wow. Now with more roots: two boys, ages 3 and 6, and a husband who has lived in the same county all his 58 years.
I remember, when I was six, sobbing about having to move AGAIN. And then we did (and did again, and again, and again) and I have experienced all kinds of people and places and circumstances and while I sometimes feel like a chameleon, I can also connect with most everyone on some level. Change is good.
The moral of my story: You're doing the right thing. You're acknowledging Henry's grief, and moving on.
And cookies can't hurt.
And thanks you so much for posting such nice things about the party and your "nice friend Emily." You guys DESERVED it and it was our pleasure!
Oh, and the dog. And his toys. He was really excited about moving to "his" house.
He was four at the time.
You're a great writer. And a great Mom.