As I’ve posted before, Connor has taken a real shine to “colors” (read: markers). I try to keep them away from him because he tends to color more on himself than on any appropriate paper. Yet, his well meaning big brothers keep sharing when I’m not looking. Ugh.

Last week, one night, he and I were having a deep conversation about “colors” in the kitchen. “Boo [blue] one, Mommy,” he said. (I’m not sure if it was actually blue or not… He thinks most things are “boo” right now.)

I pointed out an interesting design on his leg as I sat down on the kitchen stool. I saw an excited expression cross his face as he pointed to something on my calf… [yikes!] a varicose vein! DOUBLE UGH!

And then he said it.

“Colors, Mommy? Boo one?!” He actually squeeled with delight at the thought of Mommy accidentally coloring on herself, too.

And while his giddiness hit me, I wanted to hide. Hi, I’m Christa. I’m 30 years old and I have varicose veins the size of the broad tip of a Crayola Marker. Thank you very much.

Some well-meaning people try to group these and stretch marks in the same “badge of honor” or “war wounds” category as if they’re some major achievement. Thanks for trying, but I’d rather show off my kids as a product of being pregnant five times in four years. They’re much prettier. And sometimes less embarassing.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 5th, 2007 at 5:08 pm and is filed under Connor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.