This will be it. I’m sure of it. It’s the last thing I saw before he knocked me over, stole my phone and ran away laughing hysterically. It’s the first thing I see every single day when I pick him up from school. My maniac son, running at me, as if to give me that long awaited “he’s a kindergartener and LOVES his mother” end of the day hug. Except, that’s not what it is. He’s trying to hurt me.
Every. Single. Time.
Hurt me with his love.