When my youngest brother Matthew was born, I laid claim to him as my own personal living doll. I bathed him and fed him and carted him everywhere I went. His crib was in my room but I smuggled him into bed with me every night. When he was old enough, all three of the boys shared a bedroom. John slept on the top bunk, Todd and Matt had the bottom bunk, and I would sneak from my solitary only-girl room into theirs. I wedged myself in next to the wall on the bottom bunk looking u
p through the crack and John wedged in next to the wall on the top bunk looking down. We all talked and joked until we were giggling so much I’m surprised we didn’t get caught more often. But when it was time to really settle down and go to sleep, Matthew insisted on playing “I love you more than…” In this game, you trade off telling the other person what yummy dessert you prefer them to. Delicacies like lemon pie and strawberry ice cream got casually tossed around, but you knew Matt was ready to say goodnight when he pulled out the big gun: I love you more than chocolate cake. That is the most you can love someone--the very best treat saved for last. In Heidi R. Weimer’s You’re My Little Love Bug, there are lots of “I love you” goodies, but not a single slice of chocolate cake. Oh well, she tried. http://www.amazon.com/Youre-Little-Love-Parent-Letters/dp/0824965892
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/80266.Heidi_R_Weimer
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