We’ve touched a bra strap, people. Stay calm. “Dad, I’m thirsty.” “Of course you are.” It’s as if an alarm went off in his little brain that I had entered bra strap territory. “I’ll get him a drink,” Meg says. She stands and heads toward the kitchen before I can even protest. I look down at Krew, rubbing the top of his hair. “You don’t make things easy for your dad, do you, buddy?” He laughs and snuggles into my side. It’s a good thing I love him.
