As much as the sky


Last night I went in to kiss Whit goodnight. He was sound asleep but rolled over when I kissed his cheek, half awake. He was, as usual, lying on top of his covers, clutching his monkey to his chest. He had that intoxicating child-asleep smell.

“I love you, Whitty,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured back.

“How much?” (shameless)

“As much as the sky.”

Oh, my little man! Me too.