Intervention

So, I am actually not sure why I didn't post this awhile back when it happen. Maybe my ego was just a bit too bruised, or I blocked it out to save myself the pain. Either way, I was reading my lovely friend's blog yesterday (Jodi, you rock!) and her tale reminded me of the day my twins planned an intervention for me.

My twins are six. Mind you, they never used the term "intervention", but it was what it was all the same. I was sitting in my wonderful glider just relaxing for a fleeting moment. The girls walked straight up to me with sweet smiles on their faces. "Mom," Riley said. "yes", I answered. She held out both hands in front of her gesturing her compassion and said,"Now you are not fat, you are just chubby." "Yes" Kennedy piped in. "You are chubby and beautiful." Keep in mind, their faces were wrought with love and concern for me. This was done in all seriousness. I looked at them a bit amused and a bit in shock. After saying nothing for a moment, Riley said, "You just need to exercise a little so you can be skinny like me." I thanked them and hugged them, and I told them they were right and I was trying my best. This seemed to be enough for them, so they trotted off and went back to their day.

I was left to ponder the fact that once again, my children have amazed me with their intelligence and thoughtfulness. I was a little hurt, I suppose, but they are right. I am touched that they care. I cannot complain about that. I am blessed. I am chubby, but I am blessed!