turning off the lights

i was in bed. jon was in bed.

me: “i would rather eat a reese’s right now than turn off the light”
jon: “that’s a little dramatic don’t you think?”
me: “not really. can i have your pillow, i need to put it over my face”
jon: “i’ll tell you my deepest childhood secret if you turn off the light”
me: “tempting”
jon: “if you don’t turn off the light, you don’t love me.”

jon: “you know my old baseball mit i found in my treasure box when we were building the nursery?”
me: “ya, the one you packed in my hospital bag when jonah was born?”
jon: “si. tell me how the burn got on it.”
me: “huh? you’re weird. i thought you were telling me a secret.”
jon: “no really, do you remember how it got there?”
me: “you told me that it was because you were the best pitcher ever, which doesn’t make sense now that i think about it”
jon: “i lied.”
me:   – – – – – –
jon: “i shared a room with jeff when i was six. i slept with my mit. i took it every where. jeff would hide it from me, and that was the only thing that made me cry. we didn’t dare turn the light off after we were in bed either. our lamp only turned off at the light switch. so rather than getting out of bed, i put my mit on top of it to block the light.”
me:  no words. just tears.