She rests on my hip, all 21 pounds of her and I pull her close. I smell the sunscreen on her neck, the sweat and sand from the day stuck in the folds. Her arms have rolls like the Michelin man’s and I love how they are tanned, but rings of white (where the sun can’t reach between the sandwiched flesh) peek through. My back hurts. I feel it and it’s made more tired by the heavy little body I’m holding, but it’s OK. I look out the window and see the middle girl jumping on the trampoline, wearing an apron with lemons on it and her pajamas, the static making all the hairs on her head stand up on end. The oldest one is on the other side of the yard, washing a special rock she found outside under the tap. The water rushes over her hands and catches the sunlight. There is music playing on my stereo, dinner simmering on the stove-top and I take it all in, feel it all, and am so thankful.
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9 Comments
lovely!
Love. Perfect.
So nice. These are the moments that make a life….
:)
I have goosebumps. :) Thanks for sharing!
beautifully written – – I can see and feel the scene. WOW
Love this.
Beautiful posting
This sounds like the beginning of a novel. And I want to read more (for the record).
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