And 23 Years Later...

     As I was walking through the room, my visiting 23-year-old son casually said, "Love you, Mom."  I responded with, "Love you forever, like you for always." With him a bit baffled, I tried to remind him that I have occasionally texted or emailed that phrase to him, to which he did not recall at all.
     Well! I had to go directly to the bookshelf and pull out my 23-year-old copy of I Love You Forever, which when received back in 1988 made me cry my eyes out until I couldn't even see the pages anymore.  If you have never read it and you are a mother, you must read it at once. If you are a mother, read it, and never remotely teared up in just ONE eye, you need to be in therapy.
     I sat on the arm of the sofa where he was lounging, handed him the copy with his name in it, and insisted that he read it aloud to me and all other ears, one listener being his girlfriend.  As he opened to the first page and began to read, it was heartlessly recited.  I said, "No! You must read it with FEELing...and use a gentle, sweet voice."  He complied, with a smurk, making fun of my sentimentality.  (Boys!)  He DID, however, remember me having him find the cat on every page and

promptly had his girl find each one, as well... using his gentle, sweet voice. Good boy.  Some things stick, thank goodness.
     As he proceeded on with the mom continually sneaking into her son's room, he says, "She's a little creepy!"  I must say, I had to agree!! Each picture-page made her look more and more like a Peeping Tom or a predator!  I urged him to read it sweeter and it wouldn't be so freaky, to stop laughing every time he turned the page and looked at the progression of the pictures and words.  I won't even GO into his conclusions about the boy as a man, his home, his kitchen or various other things. (I won't say more, because I surely don't want to ruin the end of the story for you who haven't had the joy of experiencing it. I've only relayed his twisting of the first 90%. You're welcome.)  
     So, there's what 23 years down the road of life can do..or ruin...for one unbelievably heart-

throbbing little story now told from the mouth of a grown son.  Be sure of this: I will hold onto that little paperback and read it dearly to my someday little grandkids.  It will stay on MY bookshelf and I will NOT let EITHER of my boys have the privilege of even holding it in their grimy big man-hands to turn it into a travesty. 
   In all, I will never forget the tears I shed, while riding in a car, during my first reading, because I had a sweet, tiny 6 pound bundle of boy who had my whole heart and soul.  Also, I will always remember that entertaining reading of my now 170 pound son while I sat near him, overlooking his shoulder.  Both wonderful milestones I will cherish. 
     Note to self:  Keep all saved childhood books away from sons.
     Second note to self:  Check on getting them therapy....for FEELings.