My youngest son Ty has a way with words. He has since he learned to talk. If I have children being clever or saying something poignant in my books its probably because son Ty said the same thing in real life.
This morning was one of those moments.
I was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase zipping up his black skateboard sweatshirt covered in little skulls and he says to me, “Mom, you’re getting fat.”
I glance down and my stomach is hanging out between my white sweatpants and turquoise t-shirt. There was a fair amount of belly there. “I know, honey.”
He gives me a sympathetic smile. “At least you know its working.”
I just hope he’ll be as supportive when I go to lose the baby weight.