A is for Advent: A Three-Year-Old's Perspective

K is for Kiss

Mum knows that pretending to sleep on Daniel's bed causes all sorts of rowdy disruption, but she does it anyway. Both beds are soft, but Daniel's bed is the one by the window, and it usually doesn't have so many books on it.

The first thing Timmy sees when he walks into his room at bedtime, is Mum lying on Daniel's bed. 

This amuses him. "Mummy!" he says with a grin. "Mummy's on Dannel's bed!"

Then he sees his own bed has Daniel in it, its covers pulled up to his chin. 

This doesn't amuse him at all. "Dannel, no! That's my bed! Dannel!" 

Daniel shows no signs of moving, even after Mum gets off the other bed and gestures him over. It's only after she has dragged Daniel out of the bed, and his feet are on the floor, that he heads for the right one.

As the boys sip water through their straws, they're reminded this is the last drink they'll get tonight. So they have to take big ones. Mum is familiar with the procrastination ploy of asking for more water, but Timmy rarely does it anymore. Daniel does. Every night.

Daniel sips his water slowly. Very slowly. Another procrastination ploy, most likely. Daniel's busy sipping his water at the speed of a dead man, so Mum comes to sit on the edge of Timmy's bed. He's already moved his knees out of the way.

"Kiss?" she asks.

Timmy purses his lips and makes a humming sound. The cue to go. Mum kisses him.

Mmmmm-wah. 

Timmy purses and hums again. She kisses him again. When he purses and hums a third time, nothing happens. She's just looking at him, smiling. She usually smiles when Timmy gives her a kiss. 

Of course, he doesn't often do it. He doesn't have time for that sort of thing. Nor hugs. Timmy's a busy boy, and hugs take even longer than kisses. They're a useful medical aid for grazed knees and stubbed toes, but beyond that he finds they have very limited application.

She's still smiling at him, but not making a move to return his goodnight kiss invitation.

"Kiss, Mummy?" Timmy says. "Las' one. Just las' one. Three kisses." He counts them off on his fingers. "Just one... two..." His third and fourth fingers waver, and he loses track of what he was counting. Two. Something about two. "...Just two more kisses," he finishes. That sounds about right.

Mum laughs. "You've already had two kisses!"

"Las' one," Timmy amends.

Mum leans down to give him his kiss, and afterwards looks at him expectantly. Timmy doesn't know what for. Business dealings are done.

"Goodnight, Mummy," he says. He points to the door. "Go grownup's bed, now. You go to grownup's bed."

Mum laughs again and says, "Okay." She stands, but doesn't go to her grownup's bed. She moves back to Daniel's.

He's still drinking. 

This is ridiculous. He has to be doing it on purpose.

"Okay, you're done," Mum says, and takes the cup from him. He doesn't complain much, so Timmy concludes he wasn't really thirsty.

Mum is asking Daniel to lie down now, before she gives him a kiss. He's refusing, insisting on the kiss first. Is he challenging her to a battle of wills?

He should know Mum doesn't engage in those, Timmy thinks. At least, not usually. She's not a coaxing sort, and she's certainly not patient enough to out-stubborn either of them. She usually just leaves, but in a way that means she still wins. 

She's not going to concede this time, either. Especially not when she knows that even if she gives Daniel a kiss right now, he'll still refuse to lie down. Timmy knows it too, which is how he also knows his brother's challenge is a stupid idea.

After long moments of impasse, Mum abruptly says, "Goodnight," and turns to leave the room. 

She's almost at the door when Daniel's plea turns panicked: "KISS?!"

She comes back. "Lie down," she says.

Daniel doesn't. He looks at her. He doesn't blink.

It's a stupid, stupid idea.

Again she turns to leave, and again she's almost at the door when Daniel shrieks at her, "KISS?!"

Timmy's eyes flick between them as though watching a tennis match. Daniel's eyes are wide, pleading. Mum's eyes are narrowed, contemplating.

She returns. She stands next to Daniel's pillow, but she doesn't lean down. She just waits.

So does Daniel. But not for long. Not this time. He slowly lowers himself backwards, until his head touches the pillow. "...Kiss?"

Mum gives him his goodnight kiss—both of them do the humming thing, as all goodnight kisses should have—and strokes Daniel's fringe aside. It's not long enough to be in his eyes anymore, but she does it anyway.

Timmy likes that his bed is directly in front of the door. It means when Mum closes it behind her, she sees him, last. Sees him being well-behaved, one hand holding his small plastic Minion to his chest. 

He knows she probably can't see him close his eyes after she's turned the light off and is pulling the door shut, but he does it anyway.