...at least that's what I'd like to think.
You see, my hands are pretty much always freezing. I don't think it's an aging thing, seems they've been cold as long as I can remember. And these days, as I'm the smallest Parsons in the house, these frigid appendages are my main line of defense.
You say something I don't like...I lovingly place my hand on your cheek.
You refuse to do a chore I've asked you to...I encourage you to follow my directions by gently touching you on your bare back.
You become a total spazz and blather on and on...I convince you to stop by putting both hands on your bare stomach.
This morning after several such incidences...
Little guy: "You should go up in the sky and touch the atmosphere and make it snow."
Me: "Aha, I have a new super power!"
I'll do my best to use it for good and not evil.
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