Toe-Painting in Swirls

When I was tiny, mom put me in a Johnny-Jump-Up in the doorway of the kitchen while she washed dishes. She looked away from the suds when I was quiet and found me toe painting, swinging myself through the stuff that passed my diaper. 

Today, while easing mom into the shower, a few drops escaped. Her in my embrace, there was no way to swing away, only through. At first, she was horrified when I backed out of the shower and she saw the floor. 

"I’m just toe-painting, mom: reliving my childhood." She smiled back at me and we both laughed. Instead of what it was, she saw little me and felt like herself again. My response was her response from back then. And it was good. 

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