Still room for mommy

Gavin has been deep into a "Daddy" phase for awhile. I started off being amused. Then I moved on to being annoyed and then later wounded. Snap out of it, I told myself. He's a toddler. Next week you'll be right up there with animal crackers in popularity. It didn't seem to happen. The times it was the two of us alone, he was thrilled to have my company, but with both of us working, we spend more time as a trio than anything else, so I often felt left (and admittedly let myself be) in the background. Until...
I put Gavin to bed myself tonight while Don took the dog where we board her when one of us or all of us are out of town. I leave tomorrow for a work trip and won't see him again until he wakes up on Saturday. He willingly crawled in my lap for his nightly rendition of Good Night Moon, but before I could grab the book and prepare for the usual wrestling match it takes to keep him on our laps while we read, he leaned back into the crook of my elbow, snuggled into me and I held him like I did when he was a little baby. I told him the story by heart and he looked up into my face smiling and still, joining in for the words he knows "moon," "socks", "clocks," "mush" and "hush," and "The End." I put him in the crib and covered him when he asked for his blanket -- but when I turned to leave the room he picked up his head and said what sounded like "Mommy ... stay." I said good night once more and took a picture in my mind to try and save this little memory. There are so many like it, but some seem to come along exactly when you need them.