Pretty

My ten year old son, Kaden, was playing on his daddy's laptop the other day while I was blogging. He stopped his game so he could turn his laptop around so that its back was to me. He had it setting on a book to keep the fan out of the comforter so it wouldn't overheat. "I need to do this," he mumbled as he turned the book around and sat down behind the computer. He smiled a sweet smile at me when he got situated on the bed.

"Why do you need to do that?" I asked, looking at his innocent little boy-face.

"Cuz your pretty and I want to look at you." He grinned even bigger.

There was suddenly a puddle of melted mush where Mommy once was. My heart skipped a beat. What a wonderful moment. I said, "Come here, you!" He got up and came over to me so I could plant some kisses on his little pillow cheeks. What a treasure for a mother's heart. One day he'll grow up and be smitten with the girl of his dreams. I hope she loves him as much as I do - and I hope she doesn't break his little heart.

I remember when a certain other young man (age 21) called me "pretty" (S+pretty+Bee anyone?). I promptly married him! We only dated for eight short months. He still makes my heart flutter, too. I know that pretty doesn't matter (the heart and character of a person matter much more than outward appearances)... but when the people we love pay us compliments, it makes our feminine hearts melt. And that's a good thing.


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