Whispers

Munchkin likes to stand at the end of the ottoman by my chair. She stands there with her back to me, watching TV. And her relaxed posture almost beckons me to move and hug her. I am reminded of all the people who have told me that they grow up too quickly. And she is. So I move to hug her more and more often.

When I do, I slide my arm around her little belly. And in a world where everything seems so unstable, where what you love best could be gone in the blink of an eye, the roundness of that little belly is so reassuring. She's warm, and sweet, and wonderfully chubby. And when I whisper in her ear that I love her, she whispers back. To anyone listening it's just gibberish.

But to me, she's telling me that she loves me too.