Swiftly, I applied mascara in front of the mirror. Barely enough to make my eyes pop a bit. A smudge of shadow, a hint of blush.
Once you charmingly asked of me why I put make up on. I, of course replied, “To make myself look beautiful.” My answer seemed to suffice your ever curious mind.
Naively, I thought only I possessed the masterful skills of observation. You keenly saw beyond what I ever imagined.
You, Grover dangling at your side, regarding me in front of the morning mirror from your spot in the doorway.
You, in all of your fair from heaven wisdom saying, “Mommy you don’t need make up to look beautiful. You’re beautiful just the way you are”.
Implausibly, flawless you.
Morning mirror moments, I see you, most seraphic gift of new life. Skin porcelain, softer than velvet, lightly sprinkled freckles, round brown eyes , sweeping dark lashes, lips of cherubs.
The pure innocent essence of you.
Before the mirror I reach for the mask. Toddler voice resonates, your boy words reflect. My hand retracts. I look again, hear you, see me, look again.
A perfect ricochet.
There are days now, a few, when I believe because of you.
11.28.18
Wilde.Life 