Some one made me feel like an angel...

And he just happens to be 9 years old.

My friend M (not Minn)is going through some pretty hard days. Husband has moved out, house is going on the market and fights have ensued over the last week.

One of the fights that I’m referring to has to do with the title of my post.

On a certain night, one of the things that the hubby did was rip all of the “F’s” out of their phone book. I have to add that her son was in the room. My last name starts with an F. I do wish it was fuck sometimes…or, even better…India Whatthefuck…..or India Whatthefuckever…heh…I think I like the last.

Anyway, M and her son were cleaning up his room tonight and he found two little address books. M said when I was talking to her “you know the kids ones”. Her son picked them up and handed her one, and said “You can write India’s name in this phone book and he won’t find it, but you have to keep it in your purse…put it in your purse.”

I’ve always loved her son with the same admiration that I love Minn’s son. They are such beautiful children. They are just like their mothers…gentle...kind, souls.

For that little boy to think that his mom needed my phone number that much…and had a way for her to keep it, as her own, and wanted her to talk to me, meant mountains to me.

Just a little boy...that is smarter beyond his years.