When my brother and I were kids my mom would always say,"stop hanging on me!"
I do believe that the hanging might have continued
far into our teenage years.
I guess I may have passed the clinger gene
onto my little Gavin because he is constantly hanging on me,
my leg, my shirt, my hair, my arm, you name it.
Now, don't get me wrong.
I love when he comes up and hugs me from behind or clasps onto my leg like a little koala from down unda, but the hanging,
I can't take the hanging.
As much as I love and adore you,
I would also love for my shirt necks to not
fall off my shoulders because they have been
stretched by your sweet little hands.
I would love to not be choked out every time
you act like a monkey and hang onto my neck from behind.
I carried your body weight and then some for nine months,
it's time you carried your own.
I love you, but
Please don't hang on mama!
Now I get it...sorry for the hanging.