Earning his keep.

Me to untitledhusband: “So this woman in the Wal-Mart parking lot was yelling at her son. It was so loud and inappropriate. I saw the look on the little boy’s face, and it just broke my heart.”

untitledson (interjecting, as he so often does): “You broke your heart? (thoughtful pause) Maybe I can fix it with with with… tape.”

untitledson (who is three) said this as he contentedly ate spoonfuls of his Dora yogurt. Such innocence, such concern. Upon finishing his words, he resumed eating his yogurt, as if it were no big deal that his mother had melted into a heaving pile on the floor, her heart forever jumbled up in knots over this little boy before her. I do believe the hardest part about not being able to have another child is knowing that these moments will come and go, and there will be no one else to repeat them.

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