Perfectly perfect
As we were strolling the streets of a small mountain town in Arkansas it hit me. My kids are perfect. My 10 year old with his lanky legs & forgetfulness, his creativity & inability to keep track of any item for longer than 2.3 minutes, sporting the coolest sunglasses $6 can buy. My 8 year old with his pigeon toed walk, he's spitting of course- I'm sure something smelled funny & he had to expel it from his mouth immediately, he's wearing my Birkenstocks because he stepped out of my car in the bustling downtown streets of this quaint town in socked feet, no shoes to be found. But these 2 guys of mine- they're perfect to me. It's sometimes hard to see- we're rushing to school & events, they're hitting each other, whining & tattle telling- I'm worn, frustrated- but still, it's there. Their perfectly imperfect perfection. These little boys are my life. I live & breathe for them- I will fight tooth & nail for their well being.