I looked up from my book annoyed. What? What do you want? Why are you nudging my book?

He looked at me with those big brown eyes and I shut the cover with a muffled thud. He put his head on my lap and turned it slightly, giving me perfect access to his floppy ear.

Scratchy, Mom. Give me love.

I conceded, because even though all I wanted to do with my Sunday was curl up on the couch and read, I’m a sucker for a boy with brown eyes.

********

I looked up from my book annoyed. What? What do you want? Why are you nudging my book?

He looked at me with those big brown eyes and I shut the cover with a muffled thud. He crawled onto the couch with me, put his head on my chest and turned it slightly, giving me perfect access to the top of his head.

Scratchy, baby. Give me love.  

I conceded, because even though all I wanted to do with my Sunday was curl up on the couch and read, I’m a sucker for a boy with brown eyes.

********

I really love those brown-eyed boys.

(Oh Dad, I love laying on you. And I have my squeaky pheasant, Dad. Do you see it? I’m watching it.)

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(Hi, Mom! Look at me on Dad. I am King of the Mountain!)

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