Pop Goes The Weasel

I was putting our Bonito Boy to bed when he sang three notes of a song.
"Do you know what it is," he asked. I started humming the song. He looked at me with a smile and his expressive eyes, reflection of yours.
"Do you know the lyrics?" he asked as I continued humming.
"Do you know?" he asked again.
I said no, and I noticed a river of emotions piercing me.
I turned off the light as I let him tell me the lyrics. He hugged me tightly. I pressed down my eyelids to contain the river of tears and be able to say in a normal voice: "Papá sang it very well."

I heard it for the first time from a kids songs CD that I got from a friend for Nen's baptism. I fell in love with the song. It took me years to hear it and not cry, but tonight, hearing Nen say the lyrics for me brought back the strong emotions. My voice wasn't completely normal really, so I just hugged him. A tear rolled down my cheek as I said "Good night." The darkness let me hide my emotions from him. I love him. I love you.

Tomorrow I'll ask him where he heard the song.