Leaving the Best for Last

I wasn't kidding. Isabela can't bare to take the last bite of anything, without first offering it to any person within arm's reach.

Today's last bite wasn't something I would ever reach for. But, when Isabela handed it to me from her car seat as I was pulling up by Memorial Park, I just couldn't wait to savor it. I always have trouble remembering what this snack is called. It's not something Isabela has feasted on in our kitchen. So, when she Is served these plain orange cheesy fish at school or playdates, she gets excited. Today's was from a school snack. So, after she quietly settled into her seat, ate about 25 of them, she reached out to hand me the paper plate. With my back turned to her while I was driving, I insisted that I wasn't really interested. But, once she said, "Mami, look! It's the last fish. Just for you." Well, within seconds, I quickly changed my mind and I grabbed it like it was a piece of dark chocolate. It meant so much to Isabela. I know this because she gave me that silent, smirky look, thinking, "I know what you just did."





Once I swallowed the flat, cheesy fish, Isabela told me, (in Spanish)"Mami, I love you all the way to the moon, sun, stars and planets."

I know she loves those goldfish and she knows I don't.

I will never look at those orange fish the same way.

What a generous heart, Isabela.
Just the way you have to be in this world...


-- Posted from my iPhone