"Hey!" Mo yells.
He chases after the wrapper and hands it to me - like he does with most trash. (Gee, thanks.)
"Mom!" he tattles to me. "He was being a GLITTER BUG!"
Over breakfast one morning, my three-year-old, deep in thought, looks me in the eye and declares, “Mom, I love you better than boogers.” That, for me, summed up what it's like to be the mother of little boys.