We spoke sharply to him, aggravated by back-talking. His face crumpled and shoulders slumped immediately, feeling the weight of his sin. Tears falling, he reached for the toothpaste. It caught my breath, how very much he is like me.
He chased the soccer ball gleefully. Smile ear-to-ear, a whoop and an attempted cartwheel when the ball made the goal. I sighed and smiled, thinking, He's like Keith too.
His voice called out from the darkness to us around the fire, "Mom and Dad, it's time to go home now." I grinned, check my phone, and said, "I bet you anything it's 8:00." Yes. It's 7:56.
And just like that, he's all him. All Henry.
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