Feed on

The First Word

He had something to report.

Right now.

Which was when our son tapped his dad’s shoulder and danced from foot to foot and from foot to foot again.

“Dad, I…”  But my husband raised a hand for him to wait.  His sister was speaking.

And so he did.  He waited.

Only as my husband turned to him, our son flumped to the floor, his cheeks a frustrated mess.

“See, dad,” he sniffed.  “You’re supposed to call on me first… ’cause now I can’t remember what to say.”


Leave a Reply

Skip to toolbar