Close to Me

“Momma, can I sit next to you while you eat breakfast?”

I hear this almost every morning. There is much chair scraping as she drags her kitchen chair right up next to mine.

After a few moments she asks, “Momma, can I sit in your lap while you eat your breakfast?” Her big brown eyes look up at me with a quiet excitement I can’t remember ever possessing. After placing her on my lap she pauses and then burrows into me, compacting herself into a tiny ball. She squirms as if she is looking for a spot that will position her even closer to me.
These days it is never close enough. If she could I imagine she would soon ask, “Momma, can I carve you open and crawl back inside?”