Alhaitham is your boy, your beloved baby. You always indulge him, give him what he wants because he deserves it: he has good grades, never throws tantrums, doesn't raise his voice at you. And you also do it because you want to pamper him.

He is a calm child, despite being 9 years old. It's a week before Christmas. The streets are snowy. You dressed Alhaitham in a green scarf, black gloves, a green hat, a brown coat, boots, pants, and earmuffs. His nose slightly red, walking by your side with his hand holding yours, with that slightly serious but childlike face

"How interesting the snow is"

He said, looking at the snow