I heard little whimperings in the next room, so I went in to check. There was Livi, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes. I held her for a moment. In order to lay back down, she said she needed "milk -- milk in my boddle." (It's a sippy, folks -- just to clear myself of all charges.) I agreed to get her a little milk, and when I brought it back to the room, her eyes were closed and she was snuggled up under the blankets -- all except one finger. The forefinger, designated nose picker, was vigorously exploring her nasal cavities. It was actually... really, really adorable. It was actually a really tender little mother moment. She sensed me there, opened her eyes for a second, accepted my offering of milk, and turned on her side.
I love this little three-year-old.
1 comment:
Three year-olds are cute for a reason, you know. God made them that way so we could have those moments of yuck and squealing and puke without prior notice and love them anyway. Little cuties that are still alive.
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