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.
“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.”