Today, as I'm loading Maya in the car at daycare on the way home, I'm hassled, stressed, super-hot, tired, drained. "Baby," I say, "please get in your seat. I'm not feeling so good." Maya, from her seat, looking at me very seriously, puts her cool hand on my forehead and holds it there, quietly. I swear all the pain went away right then and there. "There, Mama," she says. "It's all better now."
Tissue, please?
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