"I wish I had nice shoes like you."
he looked down at his taped up feet, and then to my new leather sandals.
"having nice shoes isn't all that great," I said. "My mom says people get jealous when you have nice things."
he was quiet for a while. "I get jealous of all the other kids," he finally said. "Sometimes I even hate them."
"do you hate me?"
"no. I could never hate you. I love you more than I love my father."
I smiled. "that's okay. I love you more than my father too."
