We had just dropped off his older brothers.
The car reflexively parked at Target for a morning errand run.
He waited for me on the sidewalk.
I reached down for his hand.
It wasn’t there.
I looked down and saw him quietly hide it behind his back.
Are you embarrassed to hold hands with your mom?
I said it as I thought it.
He looked up at me, paused for a moment and then placed the hidden hand in mine.
We walked into the store together talking, laughing and holding hands.
It was just like any other morning.
It was just like any other morning until I noticed that his face was flushed.
He was blushing, but fighting through it on my account.