One of the most delightful things about being the mother of a four-year-old is the opportunity to see the world through his eyes.
The other day, Sean sat on a bar stool at the breakfast bar while I worked in the kitchen. Seemingly out of the blue, he offered this observation:
“Mommy, young skin is smooth and bright,” he said lightly rubbing his forearm. “But old skin is dark and bumpy and… fragile.”
He looked up at me, into my face, as if to verify that he had been heard and understood.
All I could do was look at him and sigh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard skin described so eloquently.
“Indeed Sean, that is true,” I told him looking down at my own arm which is not smooth and bright but not yet dark and bumpy.
I spent the rest of the day thinking of how beautiful skin is in all seasons of life, whether it is smooth and bright or… fragile.