And as I'm running about the kitchen screaming, "STOP!" he's having the very best of times. And then here's how it goes.
Me: "If you try to hug me again before you take a shower, I'll stop making this sandwich for you."
And he comes closer.
Me: "I'll lick the bread."
And he comes closer.
Me: Well, let's just say I had to pull out all the verbally gross threats that a twelve-year-old boy would.
And he stops.
Until his sandwich is done. And he thanks me so sweetly. And then right after I turn around he sneaks a quick, sweaty, stinky hug.
Sigh...that kid adores me, there's no doubt about it.
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