Growing up, Mom taught us that we never went somewhere empty-handed.
It's ingrained in me now. If you're going to a friend's house for dinner, ask if it's alright if you bring something for dessert. If you're going for a playdate, make a pan of brownies. If you're not able to make something ahead of time, then stop at Tim Horton's for a small pack of TimBits. Not only does this guarantee you'll have a never-ending supply of sugar (ah hem,) but it shows that you appreciate their hospitality and acknowledge the work it took to prepare their home for your visit. It's the Italian way. Grandma Lombardo always said, "You don't ask if they want coffee. You ask what they want in their coffee." Who doesn't appreciate that sentiment?
Anyway, I don't remember ever telling my boys about this age-old Italian tradition. But I guess I never had to.
Benjamin has a thing about not going somewhere empty-handed. Everytime we walk toward the door to make our exit - to playgroup, to church, to Target, to the wagon for a walk - he grabs for something to hold in his hand. Most of the time, I need to ask him to leave it at home. Especially if we're going on the front porch - that toy would be guaranteed to be thrown over the side! But there are many other times when I just let him take his beloved ball or Little People figurine or flashlight. Not the hockey stick, though. Or the balloon. Those are fights waiting to happen. Our van is constantly littered with these little treasures, especially since Mommy usually grabs a second identical treasure for Jack to hold in case he grows jealous of his brother's toy. Or perhaps I should say when he gets jealous. Brothers.
But please don't think I mind. I really don't. I make trips to the Dollar Tree for the very purpose of finding new treasures for him to adore.
During the past few weeks, though, this same habit has applied to bedtime. And naptime. Before being sent to the confines of his crib, Benjamin will scour the immediate area around the couch (where we do our book reading/singing/praying routine) for something to take with him. A stuffed animal would be the most obvious and normal choice. But he's only taken a stuffed animal once. More often, it's a Hot Wheels car. A bouncy ball. And today... are you ready for this?... an ice pack.
An ice pack? Yes, an ice pack. I doubt he cuddled up with it, but when I checked on him a few minutes later, he was peacefully sleeping in his usual spot, with the ice pack just a few inches from his face. And yes, it was warm.
Ben knows that he should never go somewhere empty-handed. He just knew.
That is my son... and there's the proof.
That is my son... and there's the proof.