Keeping the Kiss

This is how Number Two kisses, with his bottom lip pushed out and his chin jutting in the direction of the recipient. I've seen cute things in my day, but not like this. I never want him to stop. More than that, I don't want to forget it.

I can't remember anything. By the time Number Two got here, it was as if I was taking care of a newborn--then an infant, then a toddler--for the first time. The Boss's babyhood was not even a memory. I know from mining my mother and mother-in-law for their own reminiscences that this is not unusual. They don't remember a thing, either, though they deny it to varying degrees. I won't deny it. I think the forgetting is one of the most woeful parts of being a parent.

But this time I have a picture and I have these words. I will make this memory stick.

I'm keeping the kiss.

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