This morning, I was sitting in the front row in church with my boys.
I turned to Bashful, took his chin in my hand, and asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"
I'm his mom so I don't care that the kid is 12 years old now and I'm probably seriously weirding him out.
He didn't answer me at first and just kind of grunted.
I wasn't going to take that as an answer and stubbornly asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"
Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, "Yes," probably hoping no one was listening.
To embarrass him further, I squealed, "Oh, goodie!" and smothered his face with kisses.
I turned to Bashful, took his chin in my hand, and asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"
I'm his mom so I don't care that the kid is 12 years old now and I'm probably seriously weirding him out.
He didn't answer me at first and just kind of grunted.
I wasn't going to take that as an answer and stubbornly asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"
Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, "Yes," probably hoping no one was listening.
To embarrass him further, I squealed, "Oh, goodie!" and smothered his face with kisses.
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