Stolen Moments

The scene as I look in tonight:

There sleeping on Big Zebra, half wrapped in the Elmo blanket lies my little sleeping man, sans pajamas, slightly snoring on the floor littered with blankets, cars, boxes, animals of all shapes and sizes.

The fish tank with Fish and Frog glows in the dark. In the shadows a top the lego table next to the bed and under the "art wall" that holds art and hats a kite, and various other items, sits the newly well decorated Christmas tree with Goodwill found village and "present" under the tree alongside a half train track from a garage sale.

Then I see, as I look in noting how tall he is getting and how strong he is these days with his moments of sheer chaos and constant movement and endearing "Mommy, you're the sweetest mama I could ever live with" and childhood wonder and innocent anticipation of Christmas because he can hear Santa Claus  - right now - about 90 miles away - having dreams about helping Santa make toys and being brothers with his best friend...

At that moment I notice, his angelic presence (not easily ascertained when he is tired at the end of the day in non-stop nonsensical ridiculous can't sit still won't pay attention mode) is enhanced by...

wings.

Purple glittered fairy/butterfly wings. He is sleeping in his wings which are gently folded to the side.

No photo can do justice to the mom's eye. I wish to hold that picture in my mind forever.

Was he a butterfly? a fairy? a reindeer who wanted to fly and guide the sleigh? a pterodactyl?

I don't know. All things are possible to him at this time of his life.

I reach over and gently move his arm to unwrap one wing. I roll him over and he wakes up slightly so I can pull his arm out of the other side....he smiles sweetly - a smile which he flashes every so often in a purposeful show that he is thinking about me or him and me...and says

"Mama, I love you."

Me, too buddy. Me too.