Share This afternoon, as Dan woke for his night shift 800 miles away, he received my text that we were taking in a seven year old boy for a few days.   “He’s cute,” I said.  “I want to keep him.”  I like to harass Dan with such statements from afar.  I can imagine his hair falling out with each word.  It freaks him out when I say these things…he can never tell when I’m serious.  Usually, I’m serious…and he knows this.  But when I texted the circumstances surrounding the boys placement, Dan responded with, “Spoil him rotten.  Give him a [READ MORE]