I came back from a business trip, and the first thing my seven-year-old son said was, “Don’t go into my room.” Of course, I went in anyway.

but I did not see anyone moving inside.

I dragged my suitcase up the front path as quietly as possible. I planned to open the door, sneak into the living room, and call out Bennett’s name.

I never got the chance.

The front door flew open before I even reached for my keys.

Bennett wrapped his arms around my waist so tightly I could barely breathe.

“Mom!continue reading …