A while back I found myself sighing that sigh of momentary defeat as the mother of 2 boys. The boys were being boys–perfectly sweet, absolutely grimey, rough and tumble, 100% boys. My mom was nearby and heard my surrender. She said, “These boys are little angels, you know…they just sometimes crumple up their halos and stuff ’em in their back pockets.” After hearing that, I gathered up the wings and halos and followed the boys around outside digging in the dirt, collecting horse apples in their dump truck, standing on the fence mooing at the cows, and playing with sticks and just being little boy angels.
angels collage copy