I have quite some children that mean something to me. But I do have a favourite one. It is my husband's nephew aged 17. When I met him for the first time he was 6. He was the sweetest boy I have ever seen. We had many nice moments together (the best excursion: Gardaland, favourite thing: many long walks with the Wolf).
When he was 13, he said that he had read Atlas shrugged in English. I did not believe him, since I read some pages and it is extremely difficult book to read for a non-native speaker. So I joked that I would read the book as well, just to prove that it is impossible that a boy that young read all thousand pages. And he was excited - that finally somebody from the family would read the book. Anyway, I started reading it and it was so difficult. But of course I could not admit to a child that I was not able to finish the book, so I kept reading. After a while I started to really like Dagny and Hank, so I finished the book. I had quite some good discussions with the boy - he is so clever! (I asked him many detailed questions about the book... and yes, he had read it!)
(just a note: our country unfortunately in many ways resemble the country that Ayn Rand escaped from, so it is really interesting book also because of that).
I met him today again, after some weeks. It was lovely to talk to him. He told me today (first in the family!) which university he is thinking to go to next year. He made a good choice. And we were talking about the new puppy (he loved the Wolf as well).
If I could choose who my child would be, I would choose him.
(the younger version of him, him as a baby.... so that all the best moments of his childhood would be mine).