Big, bleary, utterly sincere eyes stared into mine and a damp little hand touched my cheek. “Mommy, I love you so much that if someone baked you in a cake with extra frosting, I wouldn’t eat it. Not one little bit.”
“Thank you, love . . . Lie back down and I’m going to get the thermometer and some more cough medicine, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
But I went for my notebook first.
Earful of Cider 