MaeveKieran, my two-year-old nephew, is a strange creature. I’m not sure if all toddlers are this way, or just him, but I find it hard to believe that any parent would live through this and decide to have another–and another. It must be hard having so much feral energy packed into such a tiny body, which explains a lot, honestly. His dark, curly hair bounces around his pointed ears as he races down another long corridor, screaming at the top of his lungs just to hear the sound of his own voice. I grimace when he trips on the carpet runner and falls face first, not even bothering to use his hands to save himself. I stand perfectly still several feet behind him, waiting for the wail to begin, but he hops up, teary eyed, and turns to me. “Mama now?”“Mama’s still in her meeting,” I tell him with a sigh. He pouts, those big, hazel eyes welling with alligator tears that slide from his impossibly long lashes. He’s a cute kid, I’ll give him that. Everyone says he’s Logan’s spitting image,
Last Updated : 2025-05-15
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