Nate started telling me that he didn't want any more baby siblings. "Why?" I asked. "It's a lot of work," he told me, frankly. "Yeah, it is," I said. "But if we had another baby, Grace would be older by then. She wouldn't be a baby anymore." Then he said, "I think there should just be three of us." I told him that would be fine, and that he was my favorite boy. "You're my baby, anyway," I said.
"I'm not a baby anymore," he said, leaning against me while Grace tried to shove his feet off the couch. "One day I'll grow up and move to another house." "Nope!" I said, "I'll handcuff you to the kitchen chair." He looked at me, his eyebrows raised. This was a possibility he hadn't considered. "Just kidding," I said. "You'll move away one day, but I'll come visit you a lot."
"No," he said, thinking it over. "I'll write on my phone and say, "Don't come visit me--I'll come visit you."
I think I just got dissed.