After your cousin Ben's birthday party last weekend, you were out walking around the Upper East Side with your Auntie Dawn. When I came to pick you up, the three of us stopped into a mani/pedi place. All the ladies in the place, both those working and those enjoying a treatment, celebrated that this was you first time getting a big girl pedicure. We sat in pedicure chairs next to each other and you squeezed my hand tight at the beginning of each new step in the process. When Lucy (the lady who gave you your pedicure) started to scrub your legs and feet you squeezed my hand extra hard because it really tickled and because as you leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Mommy, what if she scrubs off my freckle?" The sweetness and innocence of this statement was not lost on me and nearly made my heart burst with love; I know how much you love that freckle on the bottom of your foot and how much you think this makes you who you are.
I love the wonderment that is your five year old self colliding with new experiences.