Today's adventure: my son found my black eye liner and the bathroom door. As I squatted and scrubbed describing to Gavin how we only write on paper not on doors, he kisses me once, then twice, then three times. I of course, trying not to smile, smile harder and kiss back. How is it possible that he knows just what will make me forget about his evil deed?
If only, years from now, when he does something wrong and finds me disappointed in him, do I wish that he would give me kisses to make me forget all about it!
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