Most of Gavin’s personal qualities he thankfully got from my ex. He is soft spoken, laid-back, and very polite. Sure, there are undertones of mischief that he decidedly inherited from me, but fortunately, his father’s traits keep that in check. What I somehow failed to realize, though, was that my first-born son is actually a soft spoken, non-chalant alpha male.
Today, Gavin was having his usual Mommy-don’t-go meltdown as I tried to drop him off at daycare. Hiding behind my legs, trying to climb into my lap (while I was standing, no less), and explaining in every way his two-year old vocabulary would permit that he very much did not want to be there. Finally, I made a deal with him – I would walk him from the gym back to his classroom and he could hold my hand the entire way. This seemed to quell his apprehension sufficiently and the billowing sobs lessened into soft tears.
Just then, Gavin’s good friend, Jack, ran up. “Can I hold hands, too?” he asked, grabbing my other hand.
“Of course,” I started to say but was interrupted by Gavin wedging himself in between me and his companion, a ferocious look washing over his face. The tears stopped in their tracks and whimpering cries were replaced with clenched teeth.
Gavin ripped Jack’s hand out of mine and moved in close. “No,” he said very seriously. “It’s MY Mommy.”
Jack looked at me pitifully. “Can I hold hands?” he asked again.
With his message not sinking in, Gavin wasted no time. He used his entire body to block Jack from getting anywhere near me. “No, no! It’s MY Mommy! MY Mommy!” I had to pull Gavin away from Jack for fear he would knock the poor child over. Despite Gavin being younger, he is a good head taller.
Finally, Jack lost interest in holding my hand, and Gavin willing rejoined his class in line. “Bye, Mommy,” he said, waving me off with a knowing grin. “Have a good day!”