We've been married for about 3 years, and we had a two year old son. His name was Easton, and he was such a good kid. He liked to play with any football, baseball, or basketball he could get his hands on. He also loved you so much. Most of the time, he would fall asleep while playing with your long hair.

I walked into the house after working since 8 this morning. I see you sitting on the ground with Easton, "Hey, what's wrong?" I ask when I see the sad look on his face.

You sigh, rubbing your face as you stand up, "I don't know, he won't tell me,"

"Hm," I bend down and pick Easton up, "bud tell daddy what's wrong," he hesitates but then leans over and cups his hands around my ear then he whispers in my ear.

I look back at him, "Okay, but let's put you to bed first, okay? It's way too late for you to still be awake," I take him upstairs and lay him down in his bed. Then I make my way downstairs where I see you cleaning up.

You look over at me, "did he tell you what's wrong?"

I smile and pick you up, spinning you around, "Yes, and guess what?" I ask.

"What?" You ask, confused.

"Our son wants a baby sister," I say, a goofy grin on my face as I carry you upstairs to our bedroom.