Cooper just beams. Beckett reaches out for a high five. “My name’s Beckett. Are you really named after a monster or is that Sawyer’s doing?”
“You can call me Cooper, or Coop, or Coopzilla.”
The adults all chuckle.
“Good to meet you, Cooper, I’m Cam” Cam says. “Are you here to get a pet?”
“Hopefully, but it’s gotta be the right dog for us,” Cooper answers sagely, his eyes darting over to me. I give him a reassuring nod.
“What about you?” I ask, and Beckett laughs.
“Nah, we’re just here to check things out. No pets for us.”
“Want to grab some lunch with us?” I offer, but Sawyer’s hand whips out and covers my mouth.
“Don’t invite them, Becky-boo takesforeverto choose what to eat, and I’m starving.”
I pull his hand down just in time to see Beckett looking at the two of us strangely.
“We already ate, so you’re saved from the torture of Beckett’s food truck analysis.” Cam tugs on Beckett’s hand, giving us a wave. “We were just heading home but wanted to say hi first.”
“See you later, guys,” Sawyer says cheerfully as his brother and sister-in-law head off. “Phew, dodged that bullet. Let me tell you, having an accountant for a brother means you’re subjected to a lot of spreadsheets.” He shudders.
“Spreadsheets about food trucks?” I ask, mirth lacing my tone. Sawyer just nods. Then, turning, he drops into a crouch in front of Cooper. “Hey, Coop. I got a follow-up hot dog question for you.”
Cooper looks at Sawyer with absolute adoration in his eyes. “What?”
“Do you, or do you not agree that a hot dog is a sandwich.”
I choke on the water I’ve just taken a sip of at his question, delivered with such seriousness, it’s hard to reconcile the tone with the ridiculous nature of what he asked.
Cooper seems to consider it carefully, as I hold back my laughter — and my horror that anyone in their right mind would consider a hot dog a sandwich.
“I dunno. I mean, it sort of is, because it’s bread with stuff inside. But also, it’s not, because the shape is all wrong.”
Attaboy Coop, I mentally cheer, then pause because no way am I getting in the middle of this insanity. I should’ve known better because the next thing I know, two pairs of eyes are looking at me.
“Mom? What do you think?”
“I think…” I start, then stop, shaking my head at the situation. “I think, at best, I would consider a hot dog part of the sandwich family. It’s not a true sandwich in my opinion, but it’s maybe sandwich-adjacent.”
Cooper nods quickly, even though I’m fairly sure he doesn’t know what adjacent means, but then darts his gaze toward Sawyer, who’s folded his arms across his chest and is studying me intently.
“Hmm. Sandwich family. Okay, I guess I can accept that answer.” He flashes me a grin before placing a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and turning him slightly. “Now, how do you feel about tacos?”
Later that night, Coop and I go through his bedtime routine. “I’m sad we didn’t find a dog today, Mom. All those dogs need a home,” he says as he climbs under the covers.
I stroke the hair back from his face. “I know, buddy, we’ll find one soon. But those dogs today need a different kind of home than what we can give them.”
He turns on his side, nodding as he yawns. “But hanging out with Sawyer was fun.”
My hand stills. “It was,” I say quietly.
“You smile a lot when he’s around.”
“He’s a pretty fun guy.” Cooper nods, then yawns. I lean over and kiss his forehead, smoothing his blanket over him. “Goodnight, Coop. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
