Skip to content


December 8, 2012


The back of this boy’s head, usually smelling of a decadent cocktail of

Baby Magic, sweat, Tide and (oddly) tempura paint,

is one of those small, seemingly insignificant things that makes

my heart skip several beats.

Every. Single. Time.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. December 8, 2012 2:21 pm

    Oh, the back of the neck. It slays me, too. xoxo

  2. altaredspaces permalink
    December 31, 2012 10:27 am

    Tempura paint. Oh. the days of painting with my children. We made wrapping paper for Christmas with potatoes. We carved shapes – like stars in the potatoes, then stamped them into leftover meat trays that held paint and went to town on big sheets of newsprint.


  1. This Is Childhood: TWO « universalgrit

Give me your grit.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: