He was helping me get dinner together, which wasn’t much since we ordered pizza, but there were the plates and forks and napkins and drinks to set out. So we were working together in the kitchen, him standing on a step-stool surveying the counter full of everything we needed.

When he turned to me and said, “You’re lucky to have me, right?”

Truer words have never been spoken, let alone from the five year old boy before me, the wild spirit who infuses his silliness into everything he does and everyone he meets.

His dark as black marbles eyes tore into mine, his mouth drawn open, waiting for my response. This wasn’t one of his moments of laughter, he was waiting ever so patiently.

I stepped towards him, wrapped my arms about him and said, “No, sir, I’m not just lucky to have you, I’m beyond blessed to have you,” and I squeezed my little man tight.

Life happens in the moments, right?

If so, those words, in that moment? Pure truth. Pure life. Pure joy.