Happiness

Towel Heads

towels

I am quickly getting ready in the bathroom, towel still piled on my wet hair. Pierce comes running in with his t-shirt atop his own head. “I momma!” he is beaming. “I momma! I momma!”

I am laughing.  I cheer for my little guy. His sister now joins him with a towel of her own and we all brake into a towel headed dance party.

towels-2

I pause.

They want to be just like me. To mimic my every move in life. Because to them, I am the hero. Their world set to the rhythm of my heart.

How easy it is to go through my day and not really notice. But it’s there, always. Their wide eyes watching for my approval. Their little feet ready to dance, simply because I am too.

It is why they hang around in such boring areas, like the bathroom, with towels on their dry heads. Because they just want to be with me, as close to my physical presence as possible.

It won’t last forever. Someday I will be the one running in trying to get a laugh of my own.

But not today.

And so today, in the midst of my towel headed dance I remind myself once more:

Hold tight to those clinging hands.. Even when you secretly wish for just a moment of space, a shower all alone. You are their world. The sparkle in their eye.

Dance, momma. Dance that towel right off your head.

For this seemingly simple moment. It is creating eternal memories. And this somewhat foolish behavior? Well, there is nothing more foolishly beautiful in all this world.

towels2

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