Yesterday evening Greg went for a run. When David found out, he complained, "Daddy goes running too much!" Then he found out that Greg had taken Mary with him. David collapsed to the ground, "Oh, no! Mary's gone! Mary's gone! But I need Mary! Mommy, I need Mary! I need Mary!"
I suspect he was looking for something, anything, to cry and complain about. He just as easily could have cried about needing a banana or a new train track built. But there he was, crying about needing his little sister. It was funny/sweet, and I wish I had videotaped it, so I could really annoy him in a few years by pulling it out.
(I wonder: For what did he need her so much? Poking in the eye? Wrestling to the ground? Smothering with a blanket? Pushing off the bed? Banging with a hammer? I think it's one of those questions I don't want to know the answer to.)
***
Earlier this week David found himself totally distraught and hysterical. He came completely unglued emotionally and was desperate for comfort and immediate affection. And who happened to be right at his side (as usual), but Mary of course. Since she was convenient, he reached over and pulled her into an enormous hug, his tears wetting her hair. This was not like his usual Mary-hugs, which, though affectionate, are excuses for wrestling and/or physical domination. He was genuinely seeking comfort from his sister.
For Mary, this was like any other hug from David (except for the big tear drops, which she found very interesting)--she really liked it at first but soon wanted the experience to end. I quickly replaced her, and I cuddled with David. (Although Mary remained nearby, a look of concern on her face.)
I suspect that David could have just as quickly reached for Elmo, a blanket, or a toy dump truck for comfort, had they been closer than Mary.
But the fact is that Mary was closest.
***
Maybe David really does need Mary. (And now I have the blog post to prove it.)
