And if it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me.

"Mama?"

"Yes, Zekey?"

"It's hard to be little.  I don't want to be a kid."

"You don't?  What do you want to be?"

"I want to be a man like Daddy."

"Well, you'll get there someday.  You're growing and you'll keep growing and someday you'll be like Daddy."

"Yeah."

"In the meantime, you get to do all kinds of fun things like play with your friends, and ride your bike, and learn how to swim, and learn how to read.  You've got some really cool stuff going on."

"Yeah."

"But I know that things are hard sometimes and that it can be scary to be little.  But you know what?  It's hard to be a grownup, too."

"It is???"

"It really is."

"Why?"

"Well, because Daddy and I have lots of things that we have to take care of.  We have to go to work so that we can have enough money to pay for our house and our cars and stuff.  We have to make sure that you and Josie have clothes and food and toys, and we have to make sure you're safe."

"And you need to buy dinosaur shoes."

"Well, Papa takes care of that for you, but we have to buy other stuff."

"Like bananas."

"Yep. And underpants."

"And oranges, too, right, Mama?"

"All kinds of food."

"And toothbrushes."

"And washcloths."

He snuggled into my arm.

"I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, sweet boy."