*wink*

During lunch yesterday, as per usual, Cambel was talking nonsense and contorting his face into a number of odd-looking expressions.  These exercises in silliness helped him to discover that he can wink (turns out that some of this wierdness is actually socially acceptable).  We  were all very excited (obviously we don't get out much). I explained to Cambel that winking can be a special way of saying "I love  you" (or  "I'm really creepy" --depending on the circumstances, the relationship between the winker and the winkee, and said winker's general creepiness level; since he is only three, we'll just stick with the more positive interpretation). 

I thought he might forget what I told him about winking, but in the middle of our dinner last night, he cocked his head, scrunched his nose, recruited the rest of his facial muscles to close his left eye (winking is not easy for a toddler) and gave me a big wink. And I winked back. 

Funny how a simple gesture can hold so much meaning. 

His dad and  I share an occasional wink ourselves, and there is something about this gesture between us that makes me feel special (for lack of a better word).  These are the little things that connect us, that bind us as a couple and separate us from others. 

And now Cambel is in on it too. He is experiencing what it is to be a part of relationship, but he is no longer just on the receiving end. He is learning the give and take of love, how to be connected to each other, how to strengthen those invisible cords that tie together a family. 

All in a simple wink-- hidden among table conversation, reminders to use your fork and not your hands, dishing out seconds, and the general chaos that is life as family--we have found a quiet and sweet way of saying "I love you."