Two days ago, as we were in the throes of the "hat, coat, shoes" routine to get out the door in the morning, I watched as the Mads took notice of the small freckle that adorns her inner forearm.
It's a beautiful little mark, which just so happens matches one I have, in exactly the same spot.
But to the Mads, it was a mark. A tiny dot of imperfection, whose existence she stumbled upon just days shy of her second birthday.
Feverishly, she licked, pinched, rubbed, smooshed, smoothed out her skin, and then just stopped and stared at it. Damn thing didn't move.
It was if I could read her mind: "dot...dot"...
She looked up at me, her proud mama observing in awe. If you've never noticed someone take notice of something for the very first time, it's a charming moment that should be savored. After a long pause, she held up her arm and said, "Help, please"...
So I kissed it.
She giggled, reluctantly put her coat on, and pushed up her sleeve to look at it again.
"I love you just the way you are, baby girl..."
She gave me a look I couldn't help but think I've seen before. "More," she mumbled, and started off to the car to begin our day.
...
The moral of the story is simple: Take notice of what makes you different, embrace it, and your world will be a happier place.
The other moral of the story: freckles don't come off, even if you try to lick them.
