Robert
I lowered my fork slowly and looked at my son. There was a word for that feeling: flabbergasted.
Intuitively, I knew I had to handle the moment with care. I picked up my napkin and started mopping up the milk that Noelle had just spit across the table. Some of it had landed in my black coffee.
I felt different reactions spinning through my head like a wheel of fortune. Do I laugh? Do I tell Trevor that’s a silly question? Nervous laughter wanted to bubble out of my chest, but Trevor was so damn serious, I knew that was the wrong reaction. Do I scold him? Had he really done anything wrong? Perhaps what I really needed to do was to understand why my five year old would raise such a question.
“Uh, why would you ask that, Buddy?”
He blinked at me. “Because, you kissed Noelle last
