Bellies

I'd find it in the bathroom drawer - the hairbrush with the black bristles and turquoise-colored handle. Then with brush in hand I'd make my way down the hall and into the TV room where I'd sit on the couch, lay my head in my mom's lap, lift my child-size t-shirt up over my belly and hand the brush to my mom. With the caress of a mother, she'd gently run the bristles over my olive skin while my muscles jumped here and there from ticklish spasms. I loved that feeling. That subtle tickle. And my mom could always be found showing her affection with a gentle caress. Be it on the belly or arm or back or cheek, hair brush or no, she would love us with that action.

I've inherited that trait from her. I love to tickle my children's skin. They are still too young to manage any restraint and it only takes a few seconds before they are in hysterics laughing. Evan is starting to indulge me a minute more before pulling his arm away or hiding his belly from my fingers. I hope they know that I am just trying to love on them. The human touch is such a powerful tool in showing our love.

I stole my mom's bristle brush from her bathroom drawer. I'm gonna need it for the future.


Two little bellies I LOVE to Love on