Even though they have a weird vein that becomes too prominent when I'm hot, I love my hands. My nails are nice and long. When I'm not being lazy, they also have a nice shape (which means they rarely have a nice shape). My fingers are long and thin, which can be frustrating if I'm trying to find a generic ring that fits. But mostly, I love that my fingers are the way they are, because they're a part of my hands.
They've held hands and patted backs and stroked hair. They've hugged too hard and caught falls. They've balled themselves into fist out of anger and have spread to blow kisses. They've clapped and wiped away tears. They've played the trumpet and skipped stones. And once, in their grandest hour, they caught a baby.
This week, I love my hands. What do you love?