Mommy boofil

The last time I was told that I was beautiful was by my two year old this morning. I had just gotten out of the shower, my hair was wrapped up in a towel, I had a ratty old black bra on with my work pants and he reached up (while standing on the toilet), pulled the towel out of my hair, brushed the wet, tangled mess out of my eyes with his clumsy toddler fingers, and said, "Mommy boofil." I certainly needed that reminder today.

I'm happy to be boofil in the eyes of my son.