Melt Report

Last Friday, I trundled into Armaan’s daycare to pick him up and my self-proclaimed Angen Fnuff  (Angel Fluff) flung himself off the swing and into my arms with the velocity that is solely reserved for little boys made of shiny, shimmery dust.

I can attest that that is the singular most fantastic feeling in the world. Even if you love sex. And chocolate.

Once we were all snuggled and re-united, I put him down so I could have a quick chat with his carer about his day. A little girl, A, on another swing began to cry at this point to be let off the swing.

Before the carer could respond, Angen Fnuff was there, helping her down gently, carefully and dusting her off.  He then bent way down to look her in the eyes and asked, ” Are you okay? Don’t cry, ok?”.

He. Patted. Her. Cheek. You GUYYYYS!!!!

She looked up at him with her adoring eyes and gave him the tightest hug ever. He rubbed her back.

Such a colossal amount of sighing was probably almost inappropriate on the part of the two adults witnessing this display. But our hearts were..well.. wrung.

I am going to keep a box of kleenex ready for when this boy brings his love home.

And if I was two, I would doubtless have a crush on him too.