Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Pimple

My three year old daughter holds my face between her two hands. Studying it; memorizing it. Or so I tell myself. My heart fills, remembering all the times that I have done the same to her. Looking for shadows of myself in her big gray eyes and tracing the curves of her smile. She turns my head right and left. Brings her nose up to mine, our eyes crossing as we try to focus. Will she remember my face like this when I am old?

"Mom, what's that red bump on your nose?"

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