A son’s love is God’s way of saying, I’m on your team.
A son’s love urges you to become a famous children’s author but funnier than Weird Al.
A son’s love is an unexpected hug from behind when you’re on the ground cleaning up after him.
A son’s love spoils you rotten because your tolerance for petty, passive aggressive behavior from lesser Alpha males becomes significantly less.
A son’s love makes you feel like a winner inside because you know he believes in your enormous upside.
A son’s love allows you to relive your childhood through more mature lens and start reteaching yourself the proper way to hold a pen.
A son’s love is a natural transfer of extreme joy. Assuming you’re raising your boys on more than just soy.
A son’s love is a 2nd chance at respectable redemption because abstaining from all hard booze at home for them does wonders for your complexion.
A son’s love never ceases to amaze like endless repeating viewings of Richard Linklater’s Dazed.
A son’s love makes you incredibly proud, especially when they deliver such A plus nicknames in your honor like “Always Loud.”
A son’s love makes you feel luckier than Lou Gehrig on earth. Batting behind Babe Ruth every playoff-birth.
A son’s love means I’ll silence the next guy who tells my son to shut up in a scoff because his head will be knocked right off.