So the other night, the boy was kind of stressed out at bedtime, and I ... helped. And not tough-love or snarky-love help, just quiet, calming, lying with him, head on his chest and one hand across his stomach, talking. Reassuring.
At the risk of losing all my sarcasm-loving, here-for-the-jaded-cynicism fans, it was really nice.
God help me, I liked it. I mean, liked it with a little tremor and this suffusing wave of accomplishment.
2020, what have you driven me to?
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