sensitive soul

I don't know if I've mentioned it on the blog before, but Andy is perhaps the most sensitive child that has ever lived. He cries at the drop of a hat. He gets angry if he's corrected. He sticks out his bottom lip in the saddest pouty face if he's even gently admonished. It's actually a real problem because his hurt feelings get in the way of the message we're trying to deliver.

Last evening Shawn and I went fishing on the river; Andy spent the evening with my parents. They had to go to Lowe's after dinner to look at some rugs and they took Andy along. He adores Lowe's because he gets to climb on every tractor in the store and ride in the race car cart.

But his sensitivity came with him, as it always does. Apparently he was goofing around in the cart, and bent down and began to chew on the handle, where dozens of human hands rest every day. I'm not a germaphobe by any means, but even I agree this isn't the best place for a human mouth to be.

My mom must agree because she gently said, "Oh babe-o, icky. Let's not put our mouth there. It's gross and germy and you don't want to get sick."

His face clouded and the bottom lip immediately protruded.

Mom said, "Andy, honey, I'm not yelling at you and I'm not angry with you. You're not in trouble. I just don't want you to get sick."

The bottom lip protruded further.

She said, "Andy I love you. I'm not mad. I love you so much babe-o."

Andy looked down and, under his breath, said, "I don't love you....."