cutting the cord

yesterday in the park. Jayanth was cycling furiously, on his diego bike. (he's finally left behind the tricycle). it was such a beautiful fall day--felt like late spring--and I was trying to keep up with him, when he turned around and said,
"amma, i want to be alone."
he's never said that- he always wants me, and says so, which in turn makes me feel like a miser's million dollars, every single one invaluable. but there he was, at three and a half, ready to go it on his own. i mock-sulked, looked hurt and could think of nothing to say. he turned and looked at me, once, then raced off, till he was too tiny for comfort on the other side of the green. then we got home, and happened to talk about parents going to work. he said," only boys and fathers to go officie (sic)"
"no, moms go to officie too. look at carmen, look at appachie. one day I will go to officie too," i said.
this took some time to digest. when he got the sense, after some more examples and explaining, that one day, soon, i would be working too, like his dad, he looked at me, clear-eyed and pronounced,
"you can go to work amma, i'll take care of myself."
o horror! i never thought i'd see the day. in as unruffled a tone as i could muster, i asked,
"if i go, who'll feed you? what will you eat?"
"i'll eat something. dont worry amma, you can go to work," he insisted. he was giving me permission to leave him, and he insisted on being gracious about it.
what could i do, but thank him, and dread the day.

relevent book : adam gopnik's, "at the childrens gate", a memoir of life in NY city. the chapter on Peter Pan and making the children fly.