““I’m sensitive. I’m nothing but a big ball of mushy sensitive stuff inside. Tell her, pumpkin.” “Your son is very sensitive,” I dutifully recited. “That didn’t sound believable.” He gently tugged on a strand of my hair, moving in closer. “My feelings are hurt. You’ve wounded me. Kiss it better.” “Apologies.” I gave him a brief but sweet kiss on the lips. “That the best you got?” He rubbed his lips against mine, trying to lure me in deeper. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I think you can do much, much better than that. Why, you missed my mouth entirely.””
