The bitch about having two boys is being unable to say, ” You. You’re my favourite boy in the whole wide world. There will never be a boy like you.”
This is why I whisper it in the dead of the night into their sleeping ears, hoping that they can hear me in their dreams; hoping they know I’m there; hoping that they know that their mother’s heart is expansive enough to carry both of them in unique chambers of unending, spilt-over love.
This is also why there should be a computer programme that could have figured out how to give you one of each.