I love compliments. I mean, don't we all want to hear a "You're beautiful.", "I love your hair!", "Those jeans look great on you.", once in a while?
On Sunday morning I was running around like a mad woman. That's how I am on Sunday mornings. A mad woman. I almost always wake up late. Since it's the only morning the hubster and I get to sleep in, we don't set the alarm, and the girls are usually late sleepers too. But when I realize the time, I rush into a frenzy of getting breakfast for everyone, getting the girls out of bed, fed, and dressed for church in their cute little dresses. Sometimes I even manage to complain enough with Jamie to get his butt in gear to go with us ;)
I had just finished the final touches with the girls - bows in hair, faces clean - and sent them down the hallway to sit and wait with their Dad in the living room. I scurried off to the bedroom to get myself ready, trying to figure out what church attire to wedge myself into, when I heard an exclamation,
"Oh my! What a pretty baby girl!"
which I assume was directed to Charlotte
"And your sister is such a pretty girl too!"
"And Mommy is such a pretty girl too, isn't she?"
and I could visualize the girls nodding their heads up and down...awwww!
And there I was sitting on the edge of an unmade bed, halfway into my industrial undergarments, hair disheveled, and heart-racing because we were already late! Certainly not the perfect picture of "pretty".
But, to hear a compliment for me that wasn't intended for my ears. To know the girls are being taught by their Dad to be appreciated by their future husbands. To know that someone thinks I'm "pretty" even when I'm an absolute mess.
It was the best compliment of all.