"Look at you, you nearly reach my chin! I can remember how tiny you were when your momma first had you. And your eyes, so big and green. You were a beautiful baby." Dean sniffles, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a white, lace hanky.

Sam, standing in the kitchen doorway, can't decide if he's mortified or terrified. "Christo," he says, just to be safe. Dean doesn't even notice, full out bawling now.

"Look at that strong jaw! You'll look just like your Dad when you grow up, sweetie."