Brain Freeze

Abby experienced her first "brain freeze" tonight. 

She was downing a bowl of orange sherbet at one of our favorite restaurants when she grabbed her head and started crying.  I tried not to laugh, but being there to witness my baby girl's first cold-induced headache was too precious.  After taking a sip of her chocolate milk, she looked relieved that the pain was only temporary.  We had a nice laugh about it.     

On the way home I wished I could have experienced a brain freeze of my own.  Not the kind caused by icy sweetness, however.  I wanted to freeze time, to capture and remember everything about a particular moment. 

There I was, riding in the back seat with Abby.  Just the two of us.  As I'm listening to her carry on about this and that, I look at her little face.  The moon's light washed over her, and it was then that I realized how quickly time is passing.  There, sitting next to me, was a little lady.  Her legs were crossed, and as she talked, I noticed how her eyes glistened with excitement as she shared her secret stories with me.

I kissed her on the cheek, and then she looked at me with the biggest, most sincere eyes, and she said, "I'm never gonna wipe that kiss off."

Now that's my kind of brain freeze.