armmeat

Moments to remember:
The other night Cal sat close to me watching tv and put his cheek against my armmeat (bare arm with some sag to it). I couldn't move and disturb the moment. He's twelve and there aren't many of these left.
But then last night he put a pillow between us and leaned against me. I absentmindedly stroked his hair. When I stopped, he said, keep doing that, so I did. I loved my mom to stroke or brush my hair with a boar's hair brush. She insisted you must use natural fibres on your hair. I never heeded her advise and have survived on plastic bristled brushes. When I had to replace my purse brush recently I saw for the first time, a wooden handled, boar's hair brush. I bought it on a whim. Maybe I saw them before but thought they would catch and keep too much hair in them. But I discoverd the best thing. I can self soothe myself brushing with that thing. I only must be careful not too overbrush as it tends to create greasy hair rather easily. My mom thought this was healthy, too.