One Lap Saved

Sam has been very snuggley lately, launching at me with open arms when I pick him up from school, curling himself into my lap whenever I sit down at home. It seems impossible to me that his body is so gangly and long, bizarre that he is so heavy when his wings entrust his full weight to my arms.

"Do you think you'll always love me this much?" I ask, not fully attending to the fact that I actually said this aloud.

"I don't know," says Sam, without worry in his voice. He jumps up to get something from the living room.

"I think that's a very wise answer," I say.

"Save your lap for me!" he calls.