Not Ready to Grow Up Yet

Tonight my seven year old went to his friend Alex's birthday party (my friend Caryn's son).  They had pizza, garlic knots, ice cream with the works, and chocolate cake with Sponge Bob motif.  After the food orgy, they went down to the play room to watch "Space Chimps" and indulge in even more junk food for snack.  When Caryn and I had finished cleaning up the dining room and kitchen, and had a little time for chit chat, I made movements to leave.  I double checked with my son to make sure he was OK with that, and he was.  So I headed out, stopping at the local market for something I needed on the way home.

As I was at the self checkout, Caryn called on my cell.  "He's under the table crying and wants to go home."  Okay.  Good thing I was only five minutes down the road.  By the time I arrived back there, he'd changed into his jammies and brushed his teeth; I guess he was taking no chances about my taking him back!  So we said our goodbyes. 

As he was climbing into the mini van, I asked him whether anyone had said or done anything to upset him.  He said no, and his eyes welled up with tears.  "I didn't like the party as much as I like being with you."  He then clung to me, sobbing.  I assured him that I wouldn't leave him anyplace he didn't want to be, and when he was really ready for a sleepover, I'd be happy to take him there.  Then I asked whether he and Alex were still friends.  He said yes.

I guess it's not a completely bad thing that my seven year old is not ready to snip the apron strings.  I know I'll be sad when he runs off to spend the night elsewhere without looking back, as I've been sad at his other milestone achievements...knowing that he's my last one.  He's getting LOTS of hugs tonight, that's for sure!