"When I squeeze your hand, it means I love you."
My kids know this by heart; I repeat it often.
My kids don't like to hold my hand, but this usually buys me some time to walk safely across the street or move quickly through a store.
Tonight, Herston asked for my hand; he held my hand until he fell asleep.
He squeezed my poor hand as hard as he could while he simultaneously kissed it.
I rejoice in my sore fingers because it means my four year old loves me.
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