That's my boy.

Macklin's snuggling on my lap because he jumped off the kitchen counter (snitching chocolate, a different story altogether) and it was so high/so far it hurt his feet when he landed. So he's on my lap, the tears still not dry on his cheeks. I just gathered everyone to work on math, and Libby's in the school room playing with three little horses she got as a Christmas present from someone. Macklin takes time out of his busy sniffling/snuggling schedule to say, "Yibby, it's maf time, not horsey time!"

That's right, son. You tell her. *eyeroll*

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