We are in the car, today. It’s dark by 4:30, and the day has been long and bone-tiring.
I am mentally consumed by a never ending and slightly terrifying to-do list.
And from the back seat, from my heretofore quiet seven year old boy,
“Mom, you look tired today. And pretty. Pretty and tired all at the same time.”
You can argue nature vs. nurture till you’re Smurf blue in the damn face.
But I’ll tell you right now, there is nothing in this kid’s makeup or in his experience that would lead him to say that. That would make him perceptive enough to to read my mood and level of engagement. That would make the leap from thought to words, that he found something or someone beautiful.
Boy, you take my breath away. You are truly a triumph over genetics. And I love you.