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The Look.

November 10, 2008

It’s something they’re born with. I remember glimpses of it the first time he could focus on my face. It was a twinkle in his eye, the slight cock of his chin, and pursed lips.

We met.

There’s not a camera on earth that could catch what happened simultaneously between us — a parent and child moment that’s unmistakable. Branded in your mind but yet almost indescribable with words.

A rush that is gone in a blink. One turn and you’ll miss it, like a smoke signal on a windy day.
It’s hard to express what a dry lump in your throat, a tickle in your stomach, or a welled tear in your eye means when you see it. But you know instantly what it is. No diagnosis or analysis required.

But when you catch it in that almost fleeting moment, you know exactly what it says, even if he’s never spoken more than a few singular words.”I’m going to turn that hot faucet in the bath tub on no matter how many times you say no and I don’t care if I burn myself because what do you know you stupid mommy and what the fuck are you going to do about it??!!”

Yeah. You know. That look.

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