I loved my mom's hands and feet when I was young. They were soft and a little veiny, graceful and long.
I suppose its something chemical that causes that love. You know - the hands that feed and hug and take care of you. Somehow that feeling remained undisturbed into adulthood.
And now I quite like that my hands look a little bit like hers.
I smacked my hand on the desk yesterday. It wasn't even a smash-between something. Just walking into the bedroom. It is awesome that I can hurt myself doing such a coordinated task.
It was all red and puffy. I started telling people that I punched someone in the metro who wouldn't give up their seat for an old lady.
But I keep knocking into things. And it hurts. The only conclusion I could come too is that kids don't hurts as much because they have extra fat to cushion themselves. And they do it all the time: they fall onto table corners, scrape themselves on the sidewalk, get hit by a sibling, or (gasp!) get spanked. (Parents: there is no natural fat cushion for quiet time. Just remember that.)
So you would think as you get older, you would do that less (lesson learned?) and if you don't, it's just natural selection.
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