Tucker carries Maxwell to me at least six times a day.  Wherever I am in the house, Tuck appears.  With Max.

“Mommy, he wants to sit with you.”

“He wants to be near you.”

“He wants to know where you are.”

“Mommy, Max will sit safely on your lap.  He’ll be very quiet.”

“He was looking for you.”


This morning, as he carried Max out to me while I was taking out the trash (please disregard the fact that one of these young gentlemen should be taking out the trash), I said, “Tuck, Max doesn’t have to be with me all the time.”

“But he wants to.  So I bring him to you.”

“He’s okay, buddy.  He can learn to be away from me sometimes.”

“Mommy.  It’s just that I know how he feels.”

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