After kindergarten today, Brady and I took a quick trip to Target. I did as I always do in the blue aisle: I bent down to look at the little Hot Wheels cars on the lower pegs and in the bin. (And, as an aside, I found a new Corvette, which is always a welcome occurrence!) And then I got stuck. Well, sort of. I don't have the best knees, and sometimes I have to steel myself to stand up from a crouching position because I know it's going to hurt. But then Brady did something surprising.
As I drew in a breath, that little boy came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and said --completely seriously-- "I'll help you get up, mommy." And a moment later, I could feel him trying his hardest to tug me to my feet.
I thought my heart would explode over the sweetness of that amazing act of kindness. There's no way he could ever actually lift me right now (barring a Superhero strength burst of adrenaline), but he tried. And that is a priceless gesture driven by love.
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