So yesterday was another awesome Sunday with my daughters. I was going to write about it yesterday night, but for once I decided just to let the experience soak in for a day before cherry picking my favorite moment. (Also, I watched a movie, so I didn’t have time for both.)
Was it that Bo “read” about 60 books by flipping through them like Superman with a speed habit during Mass?
Was it Bear swimming with her little floaty inner tube, actually propelling herself with her legs?
It was at our “Special Breakfast,” a Sunday tradition, and it was both of them in tandem.
The last of the sourdough pretzel was carved up into four pieces, two given to each girl. Bo, the super eating machine, had eaten her first piece by the time Bear – ever the lackadaisical eater – was ready to start. So, the appearance was that Bear had two, Bo had one.
There’s a cry that Bo has, that completely takes all the wind out of my sails. It’s a very meek, genuine cry. She’s not trying to get an angle and she’s not faking it at all. It’s the heartbroken cry of a little girl in a big, big world.
I set her on my lap and asked her if she was upset because her sister got more pieces than she did. Yeah, that was it. So I did my best to console her and just let her know that she was a faster eater, they were treated fairly.
The tears kept coming as her gentle mind tried to reason with her fragile heart.
And then, from the side of my vision, I see another little hand with a piece of pretzel in it, extended to her sister. An offering from someone who’d been there and understood how she felt. I looked over and gave Roo a big smile and my big girl smiled back. No words.
Bo took the pretzel and said, “Thank You.”
I have awesome, awesome daughters. I am so proud of them every day.
Sorry for yet another mushy post, but seriously, how could I experience a moment like this and not share it?