Pickle Kisses

It was not one of our more successful grocery trips. It had been a long week and we were all worn out. There was whining. (Mostly them.) There was snapping. (Mostly me.) There was crying. (A little bit of everybody.)

We fed on one anothers' grumpiness and it was ugly.

We arrived home in a humph of slammed doors, angry glares and frustrated sighs. I just wanted to get the girls fed and down for their naps so Mama could have some peace.

Lunch was hurried and the girls were shooed upstairs to bed. I collapsed into Lilly's rocking chair with her head nestled into my neck and I began to mechanically sing my way through our current repertoire of lullabies. I got about 5 words into Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when my little Pickle looked up . . . grinned . . . and then kissed me soundly.

I laughed out loud, and sang another 5 words or so before she giggled and kissed me again.

The game continued all the way through Jesus Loves Me and You Are My Sunshine with many more spontaneous smooches and much giggling.

You are my sunshine, my only *kiss* sunshine. You make me *kiss* happy when skies are *kiss* gray. You'll never know dear, how much *kiss* I love you. Please don't *kiss* take my sunshine *kiss* away.

Thank you, Lilly, for reminding me of the miracle of unconditional love. Thank you for knowing exactly what Mama needed. Thank you for Pickle kisses.