Strawberry

I knew this time would come soon. 

Tonight, while C was brushing her teeth, I was brushing her hair. As I swept her bangs to the side, her hemangioma peeked through. She stopped brushing her teeth, pointed to it, and said, "oh no! boo boo." 

I just said, "no, it's okay. It's not a boo boo. It's a mark."

She cocked her head to the side and asked, "mark?"

"Yes, it's a special mark. You can call it a strawberry." 

She smiled and confidently said, "strawberry."

She loves strawberries. I thought I'd give her a positive association.

It's not a big deal. It has gotten much lighter in color this year; and I know that in a few years, it will be gone. But, I also know that she is becoming more aware of how things should be. She is understanding when things are out of place or if something is wrong. She is learning social norms. And I can't help but worry that when she starts school this fall, someone will ask what the "boo boo" on her forehead is.

I only hope she smiles and confidently replies, "strawberry" with the innocence only a child can have.