Sweet Repeats

Zane jumped into bed with me yesterday morning, put his face close to mine, and when I opened my eyes, he says...

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside."

"Uh...Okay," I blearily respond. Because if you don't respond immediately to a child, if you don't hear him or pretend to ignore what he said to get him to change the subject, the child will repeat himself.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside." If you STILL don't respond, Zane always decides that volume might get the point across.

"WHEN THE SUN COMES UP, IT WILL BE LIGHT OUTSIDE!"

So I agree with Zane's assessment regarding the sun, we go downstairs so I can have a cup of cold coffee and maybe read the paper. My husband gave this statement to him, when they were discussing day and night. I have no idea why Zane has been repeating this sentence over and over for the last three days, but he has. He always states this fact with the same inflection and cadence, which I normally would find fascinating. If not for the fact that he's said the same thing about eleventy-billion times.

Thirty minutes later, Zane walks over to me carrying his Buzz Lightyear doll, er--action figure. I am at the kitchen table, actually reading the newspaper, which I don't usually get to do.

"Mama," he says. I don't respond immediately; I am reading. Actual big words and complete sentences, which require some concentration.

"Mama," my son tries again, more urgently this time. He pulls my arm as emphasis. I look up at Zane, expecting him to tell me that he has to go to the bathroom or something.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside," my child states this with certainty. You can see that he is very committed to this statement.

"Yes. You are exactly correct, Zane. When the sun comes up, it WILL be light outside," I respond, changing the emphasis a bit to see what will happen. Zane runs off with Buzz to play some more, and I get to finish reading my newspaper article.

Twenty minutes later, I am in the shower, getting ready for the day. All of a sudden, Zane bursts into the bathroom.

"Mama! Mama!" he yells. I turn off the water and open the shower door, my MomAlarm!(tm) sounding in my head.

"What?!!! What is it?!!!" I look at my son, expecting him to tell me that his father is hurt or some other emergency that would match the urgency in his voice.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside." Zane runs off, leaving the bathroom door wide open and his mother with heart palpitations.

Fifteen minutes later, Zane is suddenly at my side. I am putting on my makeup. He takes my hand in his, rubs it on his cheek.

"Yes, sweetie?" Zane mumbles something. I lean down to hear him. He mumbles again. I lean closer still.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside."

It was a very long day. And as I tucked my sweet, wonderful, smart child into his bed and kissed him good night, he reached up and touched my face.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside," he whispered, just before his eyes closed.