A new name for my smile . . .

My heart melts as I remember a question that my sweet four-year-old nephew, Benjamin, asked me this past weekend:

He was sitting on my lap, looking so cute that I almost took a bite of him. But, before I could do anything, I busted up laughing because he said, "Lemme see da scrape on your forehead."

"I love that you called it a scrape!" I responded, still laughing.

"Well, das wat 'tis. Iss a scrape!" ("as if" there was anything else to call it)

Sometimes a scar. Sometimes a scrape. Always a smile.