Holding hands

Recently I travelled to a store with the children and hopped out.  I grabbed Hank out and propped him upon on my left hip (not a difficult task.  Child-bearing hips are wonderful seats for small children), lifting my purse to my right shoulder.  Wade reached for my right hand and we started walking towards the store.  Quickly my purse fell from my shoulder to my wrist.  This is always a predicament...well, just uncomfortable, but I continued following our safety rule of holding hands in the parking lot.  We stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the store and I almost let go of Wade's hand, but immediately the thought "don't let go" came into my mind.  I waited to see if the busy 3 year old would let go himself and start his run inside.  He didn't let go either.  My thoughts continued to teach me, "Hold onto his hand for as long as he will let you.  One day he won't want to anymore"  

I grasped that little hand with all the tenderness and love I could muster and marched into the store.

And then I also felt better remembering my Mom sent us matching pjs.  Life is good in those pjs.
And Hank always feels better taking the antlers for a whirl.
And everybody feels better after they take a poo.  Wade's merited his first entry in our poo log.
And we always enjoy a few selfies (and Wadie's).