Eye of the Beholder

Posted by Jenny Rae Armstrong in Domestic Misadventures of a Distracted Miss, Mystical Meanderings of a Love-Struck Soul

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"Mommy, will you snuggle me?"

"Sure, buddy." I crawl under an Ikea comforter sporting multi-colored jungle animals, wrap my arms around forty pounds of fleece-wrapped two-and-a-half-year-old.

"I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too."

"You're my best Mommy."

"You're my best Grant."

"I like you, Mommy."

"I like you too."

"You like me?" he asks, as if he's surprised.

"Yes."

He grins, puts one hot, sticky hand on each side of my face. "I love your eyes."

"You do?" I ask.

"And I love your eyebrows," he says, touching them. "And I love your hair. And I love your nose. And I love your mouth. And I love your--this. What's this?" He touches a pimple on my cheek, and I fight the instinct to cringe in embarrassment, to gloss over his question.

"That's a pimple."

"A pimple?"

"Yes."

"I love your pimple. And I love your teeth..."

Praise the God who made two-and-a-half-year-olds, and who loves us, pimples and all.