Today as she hugged me she buried her little fingertips into the folds of skin at the back of neck and told me how much she loved the feeling.
Last week she buried her face in my neck and told me it was so beautiful.
When prednisone gave me moonface she repeatedly told me how much she loved my puffy cheeks. In her words my medicine did “two good things: it makes your muscles stronger, and it makes you cuter!”
She routinely wraps her arms around me, plants her face right in my middle and declares her love for my squishy belly (we can thank my immunoglobulin infusions for that).
She crawls into bed in the early mornings and creeps her hands under my shirt to rub and smoosh my soft belly rolls.
She believes I am beautiful and so I believe it too.