I love the smell of...

...his spit. Robert's spit. I love the way his soggy shirt smells after a long, drooly day of sucking on toys and eating crud off the floor. It's a deep-down kinda love, familiar and sweet. So familiar. Kinda like my childhood blanket.

Just for fun, here's are photos of Robert, Alice, Bobby, and me at about the same age. Ish.