"Super Tall"

On a big hair day, I measure up to a mere 5'4".  While that's not particularly short, no one, including myself, has ever pegged me as tall.  Until today.  And at that moment of lengthened esteem, my soul felt like it had stretched out several inches in stature.  Not that I'll be throwing out any of my necessary 3 inch heels, any time soon, mind you.  After all, what's a girl to do without a secret arsenal of good pumps?

Wooly asked for a snack during the critical afternoon window that makes or breaks a healthy appetite for dinner.  Generally, Food Sheriff that I am, limits the options to, "any fruit, any vegetable, any time."  It's a familiar mantra, yet, mysteriously one that must be repeated daily.

Today, I caved to the pressure of those sympathetic, hungry eyes.  Content in his before-dinner-snack victory, Wooly totted his small bowl of cottage cheese (drizzled with honey and sprinkled with granola) to eat next to me in the garage.  Immediately after I'd scooped up his tasty little treat, I'd whisked away to swap a load of laundry.  "Always work to be done," yet another lame mantra of motherhood.

So, there we were.  My hands wrapped around flying wet clothes, Wooly's cradling the bowl of cottage cheese.  As I shovled wet clothes to the dryer, he shoveled the good stuff into his mouth.  Between bites, he stared off down the street, finally interupting our comfortable silence with this observation:

"Mommy," he looked up at me with worry, "I am not super tall.  Like you."

A smirk, smug and pleasant, framed my face.  Then, I must admit, I puffed out my chest like a proud rooster, stretching my petite chicken legs in all their lengthy glory.  I didn't think I'd ever hear a compliment like this one, at least not in this lifetime, and I intended to revel in it's glory for as long as I could.  It felt good, I'll tell you what.

"Well, of course not, Wooly-baby.  I'm the Mommy, you can't be super tall like me."  Oh yeah, you know it.

"Oh," he said with a disheartened sigh.

"But," I added with hopeful enthusiasm, wet socks dangling like exclamation points in the air, "someday you will be Super Tall!  Even taller than Mommy.  Someday, you might even be as Super Tall as Daddy."

He smiled up at me, sensing the promise of it all.

"But, no matter how Super Tall you are, Wooly, you will always be my Little Boy.  Alright?" I asked, waiting patiently for his nod to seal our deal.

"Okay, Mom," he said before squeezing me around my Super Tall leg.

Always on the grow,