My Great Son

I took the five year old to school this morning and he wanted to eat breakfast at school, we were out of pop tarts and he knew he could score one at school. He went through the line for his food paid and started looking for a place for us to sit.(I work third shift, this is our father son time each morning) He paused, as his classmates called for him to join their pre school day meal and chat. He told them he would see them in class and at recess and went to another table. I went and sat with him and as his conversation with the other children at this table progressed I realized that all of these children were special needs kids.
As they finished and left, I asked my son why he had chose to sit here instead of his normal crew of classmates. The following was his response as close to verbatim as I can recall. "Daddy, don't be mad, but some kids say things that aren't to nice about these guys and I don't think that is right. I noticed that the other kids don't play and talk with them very much so I thought I would eat with them. You don't think my friend's will mind do you?"
By this time my thirty-five year old eyes were fighting back tears. I told him that his friends would not mind and that I loved him very much and that he was a great guy. I have often told him that he is the best little boy in the whole wide world. I repeated that familiar descriptive to him and told him that things like this was why he was the best kid in the world. (Some of you disagree, but you will never win that argument with me, so don't even try.)
My son, like all children, can be and is a real handful at times. But for all of those who tell me how I should do this or that different, that try to impart to me wisdom or theory, (and I don't minimize their advice and council) I know that my wife and I are doing something right.
I have a great little boy. (And a great little girl too!)