We had a funeral to go to yesterday, which was horrible by nature, of course, but then I got in the car with Kyle and the low tire pressure light came on and I drove, white-knuckled, and we hit every red light between our house and the church and Kyle was coming off a virus and both Mike and I were in just very bad, no-good moods, and Kyle kept on chattering about "is this left or right?" (which is his favorite question of the moment; asking which direction we're going), and I was trying very hard to keep my patience but there was probably an edge to my answers, sure.
"Mommy."
"Yes, buds."
"I like you."
Oh, well, edge? Gone.
"I like you, too, buds. I like you so, so, so much."
He's so damn likable.