"Evan, my feet are cold and I don't want to get up to heat my coffee. Would you do it for me?"
"Oh, FINE, Mama. Sheesh!" He says this with a smile. Evan really doesn't mind helping his family out. He just has a smart-ass reputation to uphold.
He carefully crosses the length of the family room and then kitchen with a half full cup of hazelnut blend and places it in the microwave, chattering the entire time about the football game he's going to play on Xbox once he sits back down beside me.
The microwave dings and my 10 year old son inches back to me; a cup full of steamy heaven in his left hand, an Xbox controller in his right.
"Thank you Evie! You are my favorite and my best!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. See? I told you that all we have to do to become your 'favorite' is to bring you a cup of coffee!"
"Well, then that should make you want bring me coffee every day, right?"
"No way! Because you can LOSE the 'favorite' status just as easy!"
I snort and clarify, "You do know that I am joking about the whole 'favorite' thing, right? You guys are ALL my favorites."
He purses his lips and squints his eyes; head cocked just a tad to the right, "But tell the truth, Mama. I am actually just a LITTLE BIT more of your REAL favorite, right?"
Good Lord. That kid makes me laugh.
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