The boy has recently come up with a new way to show he loves me by punching me in the head. Yes, you read that correctly, he balls his hand into a fist, places a kiss on the knuckles and then reaches out to make contact with my head, all the while saying, “Love Punch” to me. “Bay, please…” I said the first time he began this silly ritual. “I just want to give you tiny love punches,” he explained. “Note the word punch!” I replied. “Oh mom, they’re more like taps from my fists.” He tried. “Uh huh, pretty soon I’ll have a concussion as the result.” I came back and as if to prove me right he love punched me again.
To be fair, I understand where he is coming from here. For years, he’s been known as a “hug” monster and this may be his attempt at stepping away from them, but honestly hearing him say “Love punch” followed by getting tapped on the head is not a good replacement, in my opinion. “Why do you do that?” I asked as I side stepped away from a punch. “Mom, they’re just little love taps, man, wrapped up within my fist” “Okay, but people generally don’t appreciate getting taps or punches in the head, Bay. Can’t you just say “Hello or Goodbye; as the case may be, to them?” “Mom, you’re the only I give them to because you’re my momma and I love you and, eh, well, it’s something quirky…” “Like you?” I asked. “Well, you gotta admit, I’m quirky!” He said.
Smiling I had to give him that one.
So I’ve become to resigned to receiving punches here and there, thrown with love? and affection from a boy to his momma, no matter how quirky-odd that idea sounds.