As I was putting Kenzo down the other night, after going through the ‘who wants to pray first…’ routine and the ‘tell me about when you were a kid’ walk down memory lane, I was ready to call it a night. I was tired. I wanted to see the last few minutes of the Predators game and I wanted to lay down on the couch for a few minutes before falling asleep.
She wanted one more story…
"Daddy, tell me just one more thing about when you were a kid."
"Kenzo, that’s enough. it’s late. Good night.
"But Daddy…just one more….please."
"No Kenz, you need to get some sleep."
"But Daddy…spoil me…just one more…."
This was not a ‘buy me a new book’ or ‘let’s get ice-cream’ or ‘please do not punish me for….’ kind of of ‘spoil me.’ This was just a request for time. That’s all, just a few more minutes of my time.
Because that is the currency of love for Kenzo (and all kids…)
It is a simple equation.
Time = Love
Kenzo did not want something extravagant, or ridiculous, or wasteful. She wanted another five minutes at the end of the day. She wanted another five minutes that was hers and hers alone.
"OK Kenzo, there was this one time when…."