[ her voice stays at a confidential volume for a moment. ] He didn't stop smiling all day, telling everyone who came by, "Just try and guess what our son chose!"...

[ It really is a strange thing to speak of with nostalgia, being so recent, but that just compounds the emotion. Like speaking into the future, except the future is sitting in front of her, eyes wide, with canine ears pricked forward. She reaches out and takes his hand, now he's pulled away... then reconsiders, and, on a whim, reaches up to tap his nose. ]

We should continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable, perhaps?