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‘My son was screaming, ‘That thing on her chest popped!’ The doctor bandaged it up and told me to change it once a day. Um, yeah. Ok. Have you ever tried taking a bandage off a 4-year-old? Like giving a cat a bath.’

“My son came in. He knew he had to act. He took a bandage from the counter and presented his little sister with a simple question. ‘If I put this bandage on me, and let you take it off, will you let Mom take off yours?’ She pondered the idea, then nodded in agreement. He was going to protect her forever.”

‘Did you hit something?’ ‘No.’ He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. ‘No, because you don’t know, or no, because you don’t want to tell me?’ There was no way I was admitting to it.’

“He walked in and had that look on his face. Where you know you’re in trouble, but you don’t know why. He’s waiting for you to say something and you’re racking your brain about what you should admit to. He found the evidence. ‘A-ha!’ My jaw dropped when I saw it.”

‘I walked into his house. When I saw the bags from Victoria’s Secret, I knew what he had in store. It was Valentine’s Day, and it’s pretty obvious what a grown man had on his mind.’

“I gave him the coy smile, in an attempt to be sexy. I probably tried to wink at him, and did my best to slither over to the bed. One long stride in front of the other, knocking my hips from left to right, hoping to look like Marilyn Monroe but most likely – didn’t. He slowly sat down next to me.”

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