As I drove I looked at them in my mirror and periodically looked back at them.
Jack had his arm draped out the window, a happy kid, relaxed, talking to his mum. He talks my ear off, which I love.
Danny had his hand outstretched, his fingers feeling every bit of air. He would wiggle his fingers in the breeze and raise his hand against the wind, recognising wind velocity and the pressure, feeling it.
I don't know what it means. I just know that he's smart and aware. I'm going to tell him that every day. I'm also going to tell him that he's gorgeous, a lady killer. Because people say that to Jack all the time, but the little guy needs to hear it too.