Yesterday, Ishu wanted to put batteries in a remote control car he got for his birthday. We needed a screwdriver, but our toolkit was in the master bedroom where Ankur and Riyu were napping.

I told him we could tip-toe quietly and go get it.

“Come with me,” he said, already knowing the toolkit was on the top of our bookshelf. Too high for his little arms to reach on his own.

He was at the door within seconds while I (an almost-40-year-old lady who had spent the morning playing three hours of pickleball) took a bit longer. 

I glanced down at the rug real quick to make sure I wasn’t about to step on anything painful.

“Just step over everything!” he said. “You have big legs!”

I looked up at him.

“You have big chubby legs.”

I stared at him, mouth open, fully offended.

He looked completely confused by my reaction.

“What?” he said. “If I say you have big legs, that means you can walk fast.”

And the thing is, folks. That’s exactly what he meant.

In his mind, my legs weren’t something to judge or be critical of. They were something useful. Something strong. Something powerful.

And I just keep thinking. If we could see our bodies the way five-almost-six-year-olds see them, we might be more in awe of what we can do.

Anyway, me and my big, chubby legs have been hard at work over here packing up boxes of books, selling lots of furniture, and prepping for my baby’s sixth birthday tomorrow! 

Hope you’re having a good day!