Heartbreak

For Christmas this year, one of the things the little man really wanted was a big swirly lollipop for his stocking. While we don't normally indulge him with superfluous amounts of sugary, sticky treats, Santa did come through this year and the little man awoke Christmas morning to a swirly lollipop hanging from his sock.

With all of the Christmas fun and excitement, the swirly pop got packed away in a pile of presents that morning while the little man enjoyed his new green steam engine and time with his little cousin.

When we arrived home just a few days later, we unloaded the hoard of presents from the car and slowly began finding a new home for all of the new things. As I pulled out the swirly pop from a box, the little man's eyes widened and asked if he could finally eat it. I figured there was no better time like the present and handed the little man his gift.

The little man was oh-so-proud of his swirly pop. He savored every lick and took pride in showing me, daddy and our dog, Casper, the sugary concoction. He held it tightly in his little hands, his face covered in bright sugar stickiness the entire morning.

As the husband and I were working in the kitchen on a little project, the little man wandered in. I heard his little footsteps on the hard wood floor.

Then I heard a boom.

And a crash.

And the sound of something shattering.

The shattering was the little man's swirly pop.

And his heart.

He had apparently stumbled and fell while walking, thus dropping the swirly pop. As soon as it hit the hard wood floor, it shattered into a 100 tiny pieces.

I ran to the little man and picked him up as he was crying.

He was fine; but the swirly pop was not.

"I bwooooke it!" the little man stammered through tears. "My swirleeee pop!"

Tears ran down his face. It was by far the most traumatic thing the little man had ever seen.

I began to clean up the mess as the little man stared on. Sobbing.

The stick of the lollipop still had a little nub of sucker on it. I picked it up, then picked up the little man and carried him away from the horrific sight on the floor.

He snuggled against me on the couch. I finally dried off his face and showed him the stick.

"Look, you still have a little sucker left here - it's not all gone," I said in hopes of cheering him up.

The little man stared blankly at the lollipop stick.

"Here," I said as I tried to put it into his little hand.

"No," he said softly. "I'll just wait until Santa brings me a new one next year."

And then mommy's heart broke.

I hugged the little man and handed him his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

And made a mental note to find the biggest, brightest swirly pop for next Christmas.

{RIP Swirly Pop}