My friend assured me that the class had ended well. And I nodded as she spoke.
“But there was a squabble between the boys,” she said. “Not just your son. But several. And none of them would let go.”
I could see it now.
And then she smirked. “Purses.”
I leaned in closer for the punchline.
But that was it. Until she added, “they were all fighting for the prettiest purse.”
Reason #49 for the day of why I love my boy.