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Grandma’s Boy

I’d had all the help I needed from my son in the kitchen.  And some.

The guy had chitter-chattered both my ears nearly numb.  But watching him in his two-piece pjs, pushing the dining room chair to the best counter location made me want to scoop him up.

As he stood on his chair at the sink, I whispered into his hair. “Thank you for choosing our family, sweet boy.”

I hugged him close.  At which time he smiled.

Then saddened.

“I chose the wrong family,” he said.  His bottom lip sank.  “I wanted to be in grandma’s family…”

He thought for a moment…

“‘Cause Grandma’s ALWAYS glad to see me in the morning.”


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