The Meaning of Love

I have two beautiful children. They certainly can test my patience more than often, but they're still beautiful, wonderful miracles nonetheless.

I tell them I love them all the time and that they are loved by many people. Then my little boy usually replies with "I love you too, Mommy." But he's not even three years old yet, and part of me thinks, perhaps, he replies that way because he thinks that's just what you're supposed to say. Like when someone sneezes he says "Bless You" and when someone gives him something he says "Thank You" and when he burps he says "Excuse Me". Conditioned response.

So I asked him the other day if he knew what love was. He paused, and got into his thinking pose, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, humming, searching for an answer, "Hmmmm." I asked again since sometimes his repose lasts so long he forgets what the question is, or just moves on to the next thing, as children his age are wont to do.

"Do you know what love is, sweetie?" I asked again.
"Yeah," he said.
"Well, what is love then?"
"Love is Mommy, Daddy, Sister, Granma, Granpa...and me!" with a resounding finish.

I could not have thought of a better answer.