Last night I was tucking Cole into bed.  He pulled out the stethoscope as he does occasionally. He wanted to listen to my heart.

Back in December, I wrote that he said of my heart: 

I think your heart sounds kind of cranky.

This time, he led off in the same way.  I replied,

Yeah, yeah — you told me that before.

He said,

No.  Really.  It sounds kind of old.  It sounds kind of dead.

It can’t get no worse.