Number 3 through 7 are all in bedrooms on the second floor.
I won’t open their windows because that is a guarantee that one or more of them will either be dangling out of one of them or plummeting to his or her death.
With the weather getting warmer, it’s been a little on the warm side upstairs.
So today I finally dragged all the air conditioners out of the basement and put one in each bedroom.
There was one left that was out on the deck because it needed to be cleaned.
“Mommy, what’s that?” asked Number 6.
“It’s an air conditioner,” I told him. “You have one up in your room already.”
A few minutes later, I took him up to his room for a nap.
He saw the air conditioner in the window.
“Mommy! You did give us one!
Thank you, Mommy!”
“You’re welcome,” I told him.
“Mommy?” he asked.
“Yes?” I answered.
I like you.
I weally like you,” he told me.
We always tell our kids we love them.
Same with our spouses.
It’s almost a mindless reflex.
But how often do your kids tell you that they like you?
Not very often.
Not in this house, anyway.
So when you know they weally like you?
that feels pretty good.
In fact, I’d say that’s my new favorite l-word.
Number 1! Please keep me there!
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