Little hands in mine. Little arms around my neck. Little feet thundering on the floor. Giant smiles. Giant blue eyes.
They laugh at the smallest things again and again… and again five minutes later.
They don’t know how to fake smile. Or fake laugh. Or fake anything, really.
Isaac calls Isaiah “honey” and “best friend brother.”
Isaiah defends Isaac when I tickle him… knowing he’ll get tickled too… and he’ll love every bit of it.