His fingerprints are everywhere. When you look at the television screen or computer monitor, you will find JDaniel’s fingerprints. They were all over the walls until they were painted last week. I try to keep up with them, but as soon as I wash them away they return.
I can track his fingerprints around the house. They leave tell tale signs of his travels during the day. His hands are out touching everything as he walks along the hall and climbs the stairs.
There are fingerprint smudges on inside the passenger side window in the back of the car. They have been left behind after pointing out something exciting he has seen that he needed to put his finger on while he was telling me about it.
Despite putting down newspaper before doing a craft there are fingerprints made of glue, paint or glitter are left when his project is done all over the kitchen table.
For some reason there are yogurt and other food smudges that appear on the kitchen table too. Could it be that he still tries to eat with his fingers?
I know that I can’t leave these fingerprints where they are. As I mentioned above they are quickly replaced with new ones as soon as I clean them. Without cleaning them up and wiping them away they would quickly cover every surface of our house. The walls would no longer be antique white. Table would have mountains of crafting materials and food developing in the places that JDaniel sits beside. The doors crusted with finger carried substances and the windows would become opaque.
There is a small part of me that realizes that down the line there will be no small fingerprints left behind. . He will reach a stage where is eats more neatly and crafts more carefully. (Maybe?) I hope he will still have things he want to point out from windows, but he may stop pointing his finger at them through the window.
JDaniel decorated the mat in the frame below with his fingerprints. The mat surrounds a wonderful poem about fingerprints. This Mother’s Day themed poem was a wonderful reminder to me to pause to enjoy the messy fingerprints I keep finding around the house while I can.
These four year old fingerprints are a reminder of the joy he finds in eating, creating, touching his environment and pointing out wonderful things he sees.
What does the poem say?
What has been your favorite Mother’s Day gift to give or receive?