Bud is home sick for yet another day. He slept late this morning and had just climbed on to the couch, his eyes still puffy from sleep and sickness, when I rushed in to say goodbye to him and head to work.
He rubbed my arms and put his head on my chest and said, "Mom, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure you can, Bud," I said. "What's your question?"
He was quiet for a few moments as he leaned his head against me and thought about what to say next.
Then he looked up at me with his sweet sick eyes and weak smile and said "You're my best friend."
Now THAT is my kind of question.