He hobbled over to me on short, squatty legs. He was two-years-old and determined. He threw one leg up on the couch and climbed into my lap. We looked at each other, eye-to-eye, and a sleepy grin curled up beneath his runny nose. I smiled back just as his little head plopped onto my chest, falling into what seemed an instant sleep.
This little guy, usually full of high energy, had run out of steam. I held him for about ten minutes, and I didn’t even mind so much that a growing ring of drool was appearing on my t-shirt.