I remember a time, in my younger and more foolish years, when I would see women out and about with small children who had messy faces and think, "Come on. How hard can it be to wash a kid's face? Make an effort." I know better, now.
I recently found myself at the mall staring at Babykins, trying to figure out how she got a purple bruise on her forehead. As I leaned closer to inspect it, I realized that it was actually purple baby food, left over from what was apparently an unsuccessful attempt to wash her face after lunch. And yesterday, as we sang in playgroup, I realized belatedly that Babykins had stored part of her breakfast banana on her chin. I swear I had taken a cloth to her face after breakfast, but wiping up a squirming, fussy baby as she shakes her head and waves her hands is a task on par with bathing a cat.
So as I find myself recently in the ranks of women with messy-faced babies, allow me to extend this apology. I know now that what looks to others like a messy face is the victory badge of squirmy babies everywhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment