"I would love a picture," Emma gushed, kissing the tip of his tiny nose one last time. It would be the perfect, tangible reminder of the brief time she'd actually been able to hold him when he was this small.

She got up and swung him up in her arms, spinning the around a little before settling him on her hip. "Why don't I set you up a place at the kitchen table, huh? You can put on an old shirt of mommy's over your clothes so you don't get marker on them, okay?"

Or, well, on Roland's clothes, actually, but anyway.