I love their hands when they are fresh out of the bath, almost sparkling with newness, not a blemish to be seen.
I love their hands when they are exploring the world around them, feeling their way through weird and wonderful textures.
I love their hands when they stroke the soft fur around Misty's ears making her sigh with pleasure..
I love their hands when they make squelchy noises in paint, cake mixture or mud and the squeaky sound they make when they are washed clean of their adventures..
I love their hands when they are colourful from play, decorated, telling the tales of the day's fun and games.
I love their hands when they are wrapped in a woolly warmth protecting them from the icy coldness.
I love their hands cupped together, protecting their treasure, preventing escape.
Best of all, I love their hands when they are tucked into mine.
Joining in with The Gallery.
