We hunkered down under his comforter, the one with the construction trucks — frontloaders and forklifts and so forth. I bent my knees and spooned him up into the C of me. "You are such a nice boy!" I said in his ear.
"Thank you, mama."
"You make me so proud of you," I said, and squeezed him.
"Why?"
"Because you're nice to your friends at school..."
"And what else?" I could see the dimple forming on the side of his cheek.
"Because you pick up your toys..."
"What else?"
"Because you listen to your mama..."
"And?"
"Because you make people laugh, you give good hugs and you're just such a sweet boy."
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. And your mama is proud of you."
"Thanks!"
"Why are you so good, baby?"
"Because I love you."
