Post by Jessica R.
When I was a little girl I used to love standing near my dad while he shaved. I found the scritch, scritch, scritch of the razor soothing. It was the sound of normalcy. To this day the smell of warm milky coffee takes me back to that steamy bathroom – one little girl with a dab of shaving cream on her nose and her daddy, a moment of zen before the day got going.
Today I find a hint of those intimate mornings when my two-year-old stands on the toilet, leaning on the bathroom counter, watching me put on my make-up. Her big eyes follow my every move and light up when I reach over to swipe a little shimmering powder or blush onto her little round cheeks.
It’s our little morning Tiny Pleasure, our moment of zen before the madness starts.
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