Dear Tiny Yogurt Handprint,
This is the 5th morning you and I meet like this at my dresser drawer. It makes me chuckle, because there was once a time when the first sight of you would have sent me dashing for the Pledge. It’s been days though, and I still haven’t touched you.
Boy, has motherhood changed me. Initially, I chalked it up to the fact that I haven’t stopped running around chasing after your artist long enough to get rid of you. However, even when I found the time, I stopped myself. I now realize that I’m pretty fond of you, and I think I’ve become attached. More than that, I imagine the day you stop popping up on every surface to greet me, that I’m gonna miss you. Someday, when the kids are grown and I’ve found the spare time to tidy up, I may actually see myself in the reflection of my newly-polished, smudge-free furniture again. But that’s when I imagine my heart might ache and I may long to see you.
So you’ve bought yourself another day, Tiny Yogurt Handprint. You’ve made your way into my heart and given me something to smile about this Monday morning.
