Little Hands

I walked past the dishwasher and saw this:

Little Hands


and sighed.

I didn’t sigh because it was there, I sighed because I had company coming and I was going to have to wipe that little handprint away forever.

That little handprint is a daily reminder.

I watched one two-year-old little boy pick up his plate, spoon and cup, balance them in his unsteady little hands, and toddle over to the dishwasher to put them away. He put them in wrong, upside down, and on the wrong rack, but then he slid the rack back into the dishwasher, reached down and shut the door, leaving these little handprints as evidence of his helpfulness.

His grin was a wide as the Grand Canyon when he turned around to face me, and THAT’S what I see when I look at those little prints; a proud and happy boy who turned to his oh-so-proud Momma to say, “Yook! I do it! I keen up, aaaallll done. I go pay wif cars now. Bye Momma!” And just like that, he is off to play and explore and do all the things that little boys do.

But for a few more days, I look at those little prints and SMILE and remember that moment and that grin before I wipe them away forever.

Or…until the next meal time.



One thought on “Little Hands

  1. Oooh, don’t wipe it away, Sarah! such a lovely tangible reminder of a childhood well-lived, and a mommy who appreciates it. The company won’t mind. Beautiful post.

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