The Heart of a Man

“I’m drawing a picture for you, Daddy.”

“Great,” I answered, occupied as I was with things far less important.

“I’m drawing you a heart. Do you know why?” he asked with an innocence only matched by the concentration with which he drew.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I love you,” he said.

“That’s a very good reason,” I replied.

He continued drawing in silence, and then suddenly he was at my side with this finished piece:

“One heart is you and one is Mommy. It says Mommy and Daddy love Atticus.”

“It’s right. We love you very much. It’s a lovely picture.”

Yes, I really say things like ‘lovely.’

We stood together appreciating his masterpiece, and then I flipped the paper over.

“What,” I asked, “is this?”

“It was supposed to be a heart, but it looks like a hot dog piece of meat… with bunny ears. It was an accident.”

I hung it on the refrigerator.

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