The other night I kissed A. goodnight and whispered something I used to say when he was little, “You’re my sweetest little red-head boy.”
About 20 minutes later he came into my room with an empty salt container holding pens and various stick-shaped things. The label had been ripped off.
“There’s more than four dollars in there,” he said. He owed me $4 for a pack of Pokemon cards he'd decided to use his money to buy. I looked in the salt-container-pen-holder and sure enough, there was a bunch of change in the bottom.
“But why? The cards only cost four dollars.”
He looked baffled. “Why? Because I love you.”
I told him that was very sweet and generous, but he really should keep his money because maybe there would be something else he'd want, or he could decide to give it to a charity if he didn't need it.
He came back in a few minutes later with a sign he'd made: "Mama is the best mom."
He's a pain in the ass sometimes, but I love him too.