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alex and i were cuddled up in our chair and a half reading. i thought of something i needed to note and started feeling my pockets for my pen (which i always try to have on me). realizing i didn't have it, alex began:
ALEO
whatcha lookin' for?
TROY
my pen. i need to write something down.
ALEO
i got ya dad. you can use mine.
with this last statement alex pulled the baseball hat he was wearing off, tipped it over and pulled a pen out of there and handed it to me as naturally as a personal banker might hand you a pen from their shirt pocket. ain't nothin' for an eight year old to prove more prepared than many adults i run into.
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