today my son was asking me to spell words while i tried to finish a book i was reading. i rarely am able to pull this off, but i try. he asked me to spell “i love you” so i did, but he told me it had too many letters. then he asked me how to spell “poop” and he thought that had the perfect amount. i was engrossed in the end of my novel, a modern day adaptation of pride and prejudice set in brooklyn in the throes of gentrification and the main family had just gotten displaced due to rising rents. i lost track of time and suddenly i looked up and my three year old son had a pen in his hand. “P-O-O-P” he whispered to himself in intense concentration, trying to mark everything he loved in the house with the new word he had just learned. when i finally stopped laughing, i gave him a bath because he had gotten marker all over his nose. when you love somebody, you love what they adore. i think i have a new favorite word. i think a good day is one where our idea of what love is grows just the tiniest bit larger, and sillier, than it was the day before.