Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

"What cup?" Andre looked puzzled, glancing over at the water dispenser in the living room. Where was his cup?

Henry was the kind of kid who actually listened to reason-like when his mom gently took his little hand and told him not to block the garden sprinkler, or that the flowers and trees would get thirsty and wilt without water. He took it to heart.

So, Henry decided to water the trees himself.

At first, he tried carrying water with his tiny hands, but those chubby little fingers couldn't hold much at all-yet he still trotted over to his favorite ginkgo tree and tried to give it a drink.

Henry was no dummy. He quickly figured out this method was hopeless. So, dripping wet, he scampered back inside, hauled over his little stool, climbed up to the water dispenser, and made off with his dad's cup-off on a mission.

Mia came back into the room, holding a fresh shirt for Henry. "Henry, come change your clothes."

She walked over to the window just in time to see Henry, out in the rain, clutching Andre's cup. He filled it halfway at the outdoor faucet, then dashed back to pour it over his tree's roots.

drinks too

out. Of course, most

total mess-mud from head to toe. Mia picked him

before changing him into

dirt-was sitting forgotten on

at his son, who was studiously avoiding

then?" Andre pressed. After a day like this, he wanted the full

the

looked worn out. "You know, when he was little and I had to carry him

it was just her arms that ached. Now, her arms, her voice-"Henry! Get out here!"—and even her patience. "Don't run off, come here and let Mommy hold your hand." Sometimes it was just pure exasperation: "Henry, I just want you to remember my