The Raft

Wyatt is barefoot all the time.  When Dink & I were little the old man at Marshall's Shoe Shop (Mr. Marshall, perhaps?) used to say that all that "barefoot country living" was making our feet really big.  And we did (still do) have really big feet.  Wyatt, on the other hand, is barefoot at all times - save when a store manager actually admonishes his delinquent mother - and his little feet don't seem to grow at all.  They are fat.  Practically cubes.  They bring to mind Barney Rubble or perhaps more accurately when discussing Wywy - Bam Bam.
He is a charming little booger, too.
The other day he was doing something he should not have been doing (imagine that) and I gave him "the look"  (you know the look, we all have one).  That boy looked right at me, smiled his cheesiest little grin and said "You so bootiful, mama."
Did I stand my ground?  Did I remind him of his misbehavior?  Did I follow through with a warning or explanation?
Nope.
I scooped him up and kissed him about 5,000 times.
Will that come back to bite me in the ass?  Maybe.
But, honestly - I am a pretty good mom.  Not a perfect one.  Not always right, not always wrong.  But always me.  And I think, after their years here, "under my roof", if they can walk into their lives knowing that I gave them the best I could without sacrificing myself in the meantime, then I did my job.