You know that phase you go through on your way to almost adulthood where you confess to your parents all the stuff you hid from them in high school/college?
My preschooler is in that phase.
They all start with a somber “Mom? Can I tell you the truth?”
Confessions so far include: every time she has ever snuck a granola bar, that one time when she was little that she told Grandma Dee she knew how to chew gum and then grandma gave her a piece and she swallowed it, and the confession that she has now stopped picking her nose and eating boogers.
And no matter what it is, I give her a hug and thank her for telling me. Because I want her to know she can always tell me. Even though she will probably someday need to go through a period of not telling me, because establishing her own independence will be necessary, I hope that when she is ready to start telling me again, that I’ll be there waiting.