Domestic Bliss Report

Motherhood is hard work. If we don't stick together, we'll all fall apart.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

The Dance

I watched from the wings, so I saw her approaching. The pretty brunette came up behind my son and whispered in his ear. He smiled shyly and turned. His arms slid around her spaghetti-strap clad shoulders and away they went. They moved gracefully, her hazel eyes smiling encouragement into his brown ones. Their lips were mere inches apart. I held my breath. My vision blurred.
I blinked. His swim instructor brought him back to the side of the pool gently, told him "Good job!" and went on to the next student. I shook my head to clear it. He is still only three, after all.

UPDATE 11/8/06--I found out tonight that the odd little tag his swim instructor wears really is what I thought last week, a scapular. And she's been homeschooled since first grade.



At 2:59 PM, Blogger The Mom With Brownies (The story of us) said...

You Nut!

At 7:02 PM, Blogger Heather said...

Like YOU've never felt that way about one of your boys!

At 10:40 PM, Blogger The Mom With Brownies (The story of us) said...

There was the day I saw our sweet 13 year old, standing outside talking with a girl of his own age. They stared just a little too long and laughed just a little too loud.

They grow too fast! Boo hoo...


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