My name is Amos.

I cried a lot this morning.

My mom almost cried too.

I have no idea what’s wrong with him, she kept saying.

Maybe the antibiotics are hurting his tummy, she wondered aloud.

It wasn’t my tummy.

I hate that medicine though.

It takes two people to give it to me.

I’m stronger than I look.

Mom decided we needed a change of scenery.

I never cry on the golf cart.

We rode the golf cart to the beach.

Ah-ha, she said, when I held my foot.

She didn’t know my plantar wart was hurting.

Now we have to go to the doctor this afternoon instead of the whale show.

It’s hard not being able to talk.

My mom says it must be even harder for me.

I love you, she says.

We can go to the whale show tomorrow, my big brother said.

It’s nice to be loved.

Love, Amos