We were at Nana’s and Papa’s this afternoon, and I asked the Boy who he wanted to ride back with.

“Mama!”
“That’s right — no one loves Tata!” I laughed.

Later in the evening, as the Boy was nestling into his covers for the night and I lay beside him, he stroked my cheek and said, “Daddy, you’re the best daddy. And I always love you no matter who I ride home with.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “It’s just that Mommy is soft, and you’re a hard chunk.”