Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Washcloth
Today I washed her face tenderly and worked the marshmallow out of her hair. Her moist cheeks shined like the blue eyes in the mirror and I realized there will not be many more times when I wash her hands or face. She chooses her own clothes, does flips on the trampoline and reads books with chapters. She is so smart, and independent and her legs are so long.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I hate lasts. Unfortunately, you never know when a last is going to happen, so it's good to recognize when you're close.
Such a sweet picture!
Post a Comment