“What was the name of your stuffed toy?” “Are you just going to ask the same questions as me?” “Depends. Yours have been quite insightful so far.” “I had a polar bear. But I couldn’t say polar, so I called him Pillow Bear.” Imaging a small dark-haired boy with his thumb in his mouth and his polar bear tucked under his arm, my mouth tilts up. I can imagine another little one running around our feet, joyfully clutching his own stuffed polar bear. Austin picks him up and swings him around as he reaches for me. Good god. Lock this down, you maniac.
