His eyes are huge, framed by these long gorgeous lashes. And he looks up at me, face all innocence and voice like a little cartoon character. "It's ok buddy!"
He'd been bringing me the jug of milk and he'd lost his grip. The jug dropped to the ground and it made a loud thunk and I saw emotions flitting across his face in the flash of a second. First, surprise. Then for the briefest of moments, panic. And finally, by the time he looked at me, calm had kicked in. "It's ok buddy!"
He knew the words to say. He knew that his Mama would know it was a mistake. He comforted himself with the words he'd heard us say so may times. "It's ok buddy!"
And it was ok. No harm, no foul. I picked up the milk, poured him a glass, and his world was right again.
But I can't get that moment out of my mind. Today is a hard day. I'm in my head this morning, I'm worrying and overthinking and making mountains out of every problem. And just when I think that I want to curl into a ball and cry, his little voice pops into my head. "It's ok buddy!" And somehow, the words meant for him are now comforting me. I can just imagine him here, patting my back and giving me the kisses that my little Rascal is famous for. The picture, the memory of that little voice saying such simple words, brings a smile to my face.
Yup. It's ok buddy. Thanks.