Strawberries. Blueberries. Watermelon. If she doesn't have one in her hand or in her mouth, there are the juice traces around her lips.
She uses words like soft. I use words like fat.
For the last couple of days I've been with my nephews and niece. Playing games. Chilling out. Swimming.
The later involves me in a swimsuit. A modest one, but even the most modest are not so flattering on me. While we were swimming, a sudden wave of insecurities came upon me. I had the desire to jump out of the pool and put my cover-up dress back on.
These kids... when they are grown up - no matter what I wear, or where their sweet little hands hold on to me... they will acknowledge that I am on the plump side.
But, I hope that that is just a foot note to my biography. I hope that they remember snuggling up to read with me. Or our crazy pool basketball games. I hope they remember the security of my love, that they feel that I enjoyed spending time with them. And I hope they feel cherished in my big fat arms.