Trust Me

I am constantly amazed at the amount of trust children have for their parents. I guess it's their only option, considering we take care of them. But still, and okay, maybe I'm the only parent that ever thinks of things like this, but how is it that when Sara is in totally mismatched shirt and pants she doesn't say something? And how when I take her to the store with sucker on her face and Cheetos on her shirt, she doesn't asked to be cleaned off first to save herself some embarrassment? I'm not embarrassed for her, but I would be if I were the one with sucker on my face and Cheetos on my shirt.

She lets me swing her on the swing and play on the play ground without so much ask asking for me to sign a waiver of protection. She jumps to me from the stairs and asks me to hold her hand to cross the street. She knows that I am going to be there when she wakes up and to feed her 3 meals a day. She knows that when we get in the car, I'm going to drive as safely as I can to protect her and that if anyone tried to hurt her, they'd have to get through me first. (I've been taking combat, I'm a lot tougher than I look)

Our children know that we want the best for them, would do anything for them, and love them unconditionally. Isn't it amazing that they trust us in spite of our imperfections? Well, mine at least. I feel so lucky that Sara trusts me so much. And maybe I'll try and match her clothes more often. I don't want her looking like a complete ragga-muffin.