'It's dark out here. There are no colors.'
I quoted these words (said by Kiddo when we went outside one evening not that long ago.) to my sister, who said 'I love that! You should write a blog post about it!' And I told her I didn't blog anymore and I've thought of it off and on since then. And now, when Kiddo isn't here, seems like a good time to post again, about him.
I had never thought of darkness as no colors. Now that he enlightened me, I can totally see what Kiddo meant. Darkness has its own kind of beautiful, and I love it, but there's something about color that makes a person feel, makes a person think, makes a person dream. I guess that's why our daytime world is full of color.
He's definitely not dark. He's full color. He glows red when something goes wrong or when someone doesn't do something his way, when he's on time out chair. And it's bright red. But soon he's a different color. Blue when giving hugs and saying hi to everybody we meet on walks or in the store, yellow when he's playing (somewhat) happily with his little plastic shop or his diggers and bulldozers, or green when he's begging for the same books over and over again, or pushing a chair to the counter so he can very enthusiasticly help make cookies or whatever it is I'm making. My favorite is when I leave for work and he runs to the door and we go thru the round of kiss/highfive/fistbump/loveyou and sometimes some of them twice, because we forget if we've done them already or we don't want to let go or leave. That doesn't have just one color. He's all the colors.
You are my colors Kiddo. I wish you were here tonight to make my world more colorful.