I have to tell this story.

It was a typical day at a typical 4:00 PM.

I picked up K from school and then went to get H, as always.

Sometimes both of y’all come with me to pick up T.

And sometimes I take you home to get started on homework, give you some downtime, or whatnot – so you aren’t stuck in the car for another 30 minutes.

That day we all went together.

So we picked up T and – like always – fought the Frenship traffic coming out of the high school on our way back.

About halfway back to the house, there is a Toot n’ Tutum convenience store.

As we pass it, K asks the car “How far is it home from here?”

Without hesitating, T replies: “About 3 miles.”

I stopped for a second and tilted my head in thought. I think it is about three miles!

I felt gobsmacked but didn’t know what to do with it.

I laughed it off and forgot about it until a few weeks later when I was driving past that same spot.

I pulled into the gas station and stopped, turned on my phone navigation, and pulled up directions to the house.

2.7 miles, my phone read. 😳

How is that even possible?

Maybe chance? A lucky guess?

Does our four-year-old have an innate understanding of distance?!

T, I still can’t believe you answered it so matter-of-factly.

I love you.

-Dad

All you kids have done it.

But T, you gave me some morning snuggles this morning that were just to die for.

I was still in that in-between phase where you are not asleep still, but not awake yet either.

Somewhere in the Lala land of dreams and needed response.

I was hugging the pillow and you were loved up on my neck holding me like a baby koala bear.

At four, your little body still feels like a little hot water bottle over my shoulders.

I remember H and K doing the same.

And its all been bliss.

I love you.

-Dad

T, I love dropping you off at school.

Some days it seems like one more thing.

But most days I enjoy the drive and the company in the car.

But there is more.

See, I wanted to tell you that it is one of the bright spots of my day right now.

As I am checking you in, you put up your water bottle under the counter.

Then, while I say good morning to one of your teachers or Ms. Lindsey, you put away your backpack in a cubbie to the far right.

But then as I leave, you always return to the counter, lean over, and give me the best kiss on the lips.

We call them counter kisses.

We even ask each other if we can have a “counter-kiss” if one of us forgets.

We rarely forget.

It’s wonderful, if you want to know the truth.

I love you.

-Dad