By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca

 

It was humid last night and my skin felt sticky. Hubby opted to spread a mattress on the living room floor to escape the heat from our bedroom. As I remained in bed to keep an eye on our child with special needs, who was watching TV, my youngest son jumped on the bed and snuggled against me.

“It’s hot anak, we’re both going to sweat more if you hug me like that,” I admonished.

My 12-year-old, the one who’s the smartest aleck of all my sons, didn’t let go. Instead, he softly replied, “You know Mom, when I’m all grown up and working in a faraway place, you won’t get as many chances to have me by your side. By then, we’ll just get to talk and see each other on Skype.” So much for guilt trips; I was the one who got hit, hard.

“Fine,” I said grudgingly, suppressing a smile. When I tried to move a little and get more comfortable, my not-so-little boy tightened his hold and whispered in a singsong voice, “Chance.”

As we watched TV, I said a silent prayer of thanks for having such a sweet boy who has this ability to utter retorts that sound way beyond his years.

Five minutes or so later, my son got up. I guess he also realized he can’t stand the heat. “What about the chance?!” I protested.  He smiled his mischievous smile and said, “It will come again tomorrow night.”

Every day, I am constantly amazed at what my kids are capable of, in a good way. I just hope that I remain observant of those precious moments especially the ones that pass by only once.  Happily, I got one of those chances last night.

 

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