“They’re so young.” “He’s my age,” Moffy says in realization. “Dad. He’s twenty-five there.” “How do you know?” Sulli asks. “Because that’s me.” He’s the baby trying to rip the present. My heart swells and it just about bursts when we hear the person behind the camera narrate, “Moffy descends upon the box with a strong, baby grip and a devilish twinkle in his eye.” “That’s my mom,” Sulli says, her voice cracking with emotion.
