My husband; Their Dad.

As I lowered my foot onto the running board of the truck, I noticed a 3.5-foot blond waiting below with his hand outstretched toward mine.

Can I give you a hand, Mommy?” he politely asked.

I looked at his father; that’s where he learned it.

I watch that same boy dart around the house in a Batman cape, fighting imaginary criminals and telling them to “Stay away from my mommy!” Where did he learn to protect? That’s from his dad, too.

He bear hugs his little brother and says, Continue reading