My Son Brought

minutes trying to fix his hair, then gave up and shoved it back with water.

“You look handsome,” I said from the hallway.

He rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

The bag of presents sat by the door.

He had written names on each tag in careful black marker.

Grandpa.

Grandma.

Aunt Ashley.

Uncle Mark.

Cooper.

Emma.

Everyone.

No one had asked him to bring gifts. I knew continue reading …