Mo and Joe

I’m realizing now that before we had our own, Morrison’s sister Emily’s boy, also named Morrison, was kind of the dream boy of my heart. Gentle and kind and just a little weird. Yesterday, my actual dream boy had the pleasure of meeting his cousin. It was if Joe had yet to process that there are other humans in the world that are kind of more his size. It was if we had invented a person for him to play with. Morrison sat down next to Joe, and Joe immediately lit up and reached for him, like Mo was his favorite toy, and grown Morrison and I looked at each other, and the moment gave birth to 90 more children, more siblings, cousins, carpet friends, the human race, perpetuating itself, naming each other after family members, on and on, and for forever.

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