Ya know, Bern, if I could see auras, and believed in such, I'd tell ya that Davon's got a good'n.
Normally, babies and other globs of protoplasm send me screaming in terror to the furthest outpost I can muster to. I would still attempt to beat a healthy retreat from Davon. But, when you look at him, he's got a good face. By gum, I
like him!
Now, this is aided and abetted by the distance, lack of squalling and the freedom from the horrors of leakages unexpectedly deposited on shoulders, hair, hands and sundry objects of clothing, thanks to the cleansing effect of cybertravel. But, either that kid has a good heart, or he's gonna make a hell of a confidence man. He's your kin, so I will give him the benefit of about fifty dollars worth of doubt.
Killdeer