Brontë walked up to me this morning looking very serious.
“Momma, we need to talk.”
“Of course we can talk.”
Looking deep into my eyes, she said “I need to ask you a question.”
“Can I count on you?”
I grabbed her hand: “Of COURSE you can count on me! I will ALWAYS be here for you.”
She smiled, crawled up into my lap, and began:
“One… Two… Three…”