My children do not look like me. It is not a mirror of my eyes that sparkle back at me. We do not share dimples. Or ear lobes. Our toes do not match. And our knees do not reflect upon each other in a loop of sameness. And maybe it is these things. These differences, that make it so easy to accept a compliment on their behalf. Because the compliment does not extend through them to me, where modesty steps in so quickly. These things. These things that are uniquely their own allow me to respond in the affirmative.
I think so too. But you know what? What you are seeing on the outside is only just the beginning of the beautiful things about them. I am lucky to know them. Luckier still to call them my sons.
And here is where I want to insert a comment about how they are lucky they don’t have my wonky little toes. Or some other interesting little attribute of mine. But I won’t. Because they are beautiful in these eyes. Differently. Uniquely. Beautiful.