I'm sitting in my office, surfing the internet blindly, listening to J read a story with his home-teacher in the next room, the kitchen. The two each read sections, and at the end of the story will discuss themes, plot, character, the usual. At one point in the tale, a son leaves his mother to serve in the Civil War. The two share a brief conversation and then the son says his goodbye, marching off. J interrupts and comments, "His mom didn't say she loved him. That sucks."
I smile to myself. I suppose some habits are a good thing. Telling those you love, that in fact, you do love them, is a good thing.
