I will take my shower.
I will put on my pajamas.
I will crawl into my nice cozy bed and turn on the TV.
About the time I am completely relaxed and even on the edge of dozing off to sleep ...
HE RACES INTO MY ROOM ...
HE THROWS HIMSELF ON TO MY BED...
HE BEGINS TO BEG ...
"Please - Please - Please ... Will you rub my back?"
I often give in.
It's not that big a deal.
He really loves it.
But ...
After he takes off his shirt and I tickle and rub every inch of his scrawny back ...
He will then ...
Fling an arm across my lap ...
For it to be rubbed.
And then ...
Fling the other arm across my lap ...
For it to be rubbed.
And then ...
When the arms are done and the back is done ...
He will ...
Roll up the pant legs on his pajamas and ...
Lie sideways across my bed ...
With both skinny legs draped across my legs ...
To be rubbed.
Then ...
When the fronts of both legs are done ...
He will flip himself ...
Like a pancake ...
To have the backsides of those legs rubbed.
When his back and arms and legs have all been thoroughly tickled and massaged and rubbed ...
He will lay his head on my lap ...
And ...
I will run my fingers through his dark brown hair and over his forehead ...
Down his neck ...
Across his shoulders ...
And ...
Somehow ...
He has managed to get me right back ...
To rubbing his BACK ...
Once again.
On the upside ... When I am all rubbed out and my arms are limp and sore from massaging and tickling my boy's back and arms and legs and neck and face ... he will slither off the side of my bed like melted butter. He will generally look back over his shoulder, on his way out of my room - he will say, "Thanks, Mom," with a glazed look in his eyes and limp and relaxed limbs hanging from his scrawny body. He will have a very satisfied look on his face. He is like a buttery pancake and I am like his maple syrup. We are like an IHOP combo that the boy can not get enough of. He'll be back ... most likely tomorrow ... for the daily special.