Priceless Art

Sophie bounced off the preschool bus today clutching a rolled-up piece of construction paper like it was the Declaration of Independence. ‘For you, Mommy!’ she announced, presenting me with what I can only describe as the most valuable piece of art I’ve ever owned.

Priceless Art

A tiny purple handprint with ‘I LOVE MOMMY’ written in wobbly three-year-old letters underneath. The ‘O’ in love is backwards and there’s glitter everywhere - literally everywhere, I’m still finding sparkles on my sweater. But those little fingers pressed into paint, that careful attempt at spelling… I may have teared up right there in the driveway.

It’s going on the fridge, obviously. Right at eye level where I can see it every morning while I make coffee. Because sometimes the most precious things in life come covered in purple paint and glitter, delivered by a tiny person who thinks you hang the moon. Marcus found me staring at it for like ten minutes earlier. ‘It’s just a handprint,’ he said, laughing. Just a handprint? This is evidence that I’m somebody’s whole world. That’s priceless.