We're Tightly Wrapped

Nearly a decade ago, Sam and I were debating whether or not we wanted a fourth child. We decided that we'd love to have another little girl, but in the event that our planned girl would be a boy, we would stop at #4 regardless. And because we both knew that our fourth child would be our last, Sam felt the need to add a clause to the contract. "Just because it's going to be our baby doesn't mean you're going to spoil it." ("It" because as of yet, this child we were speaking of was not even conceived, much less assigned a gender.) My reply was, "Duh, we have 3 other children. When will I find the time to spoil the fourth?"

Fast forward about a year, and we had a newborn with Down syndrome. This is not in anybody's plans, of course, and I clung to our newborn son every hour of my day as I tried make sense of our new world. When we had time to process the shocking news, and were able to form thoughts outside of the realm of the disability, Sam reminded me of his clause. "Just because Micah has a disability doesn't mean we're going to spoil him." To which I replied, "Of course we're not. I am."

And while I'm more than willing to take full credit for the spoilage of our youngest son, I cannot. Today we were at Walmart and Sam said, "I wonder if they still have those Buzz wings? Micah would love to have talking ones again."

So the boy has talking Buzz wings again, because we bought the very last pair in the store. And because Micah has us both wrapped around his tiny little pinky finger, even at 8 years old.