She paints me.
This vivid little girl.
Clare is blossoming, exploding!, right before our eyes. Sentences are coming together. Thoughts and phrases we don't expect to be coming from her. Sometimes, when I am on the receiving end of phone calls, I can't tell the girls apart.
Clare hugs and giggles with such passion. She narrows her eyes and deliberates. She is busting out toddler jigsaw puzzles like a champ. And she is enthralled with art.
She paints me with her imagination, literally, from head to toe. She names body parts on her journey: hair, eyes, neck, elbow, button, knee, toes.
Her artists pallet? Why a wooden fish and soy sauce of course.
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