So, snuggling the 6 year old to sleep. Laying on his bed, chatting about the day, he’s snuggled up in my arms…

The lights are off, and in between yawns he’s excitedly describing his art projects, how he spent recess, how he made Mrs. Schiller laugh, and I’m cherishing every second of it…

The yawns get bigger, the pauses get longer, but there’s always one more idea he wants to share…

After a while, though, the talking stops, and his eyelids pass droopy and head right into drowsy…

I listen for the tell-tale slowing and deepening of his breathing as he slowly drops into sleep…

A little sleep-twitch, then just slow and steady breathing. I lay there with him in my arms, thinking about how much I’ll miss it when he, in a few years, will announce that he doesn’t want any more snuggles…

Then, as I lay there, just enjoying holding this amazing little person that makes my breath catch in my throat just by being there, his little voice whispers to me in the dark…

“Dad. My armpits are gettin’ kinda sweaty. Can you let go of me now?”