“Your mom says the insurance is really expensive.” “Yeah,” he says, “but I like it.” “It is a cute car,” I say. “Don’t call my car ‘cute,’” he says. I giggle. “Finny has a cute car. It’s so cute.” “Shut up,” he says, “or I’ll stop driving you everywhere.” “Will not.” “Will too.” “You’d miss me.” “Not if you keep calling my car cute.” I laugh again.
