When I drag Callum forcibly out of the bathtub, and towel him off as I lift him into his bedroom, I’m struck by his sheer joy at being completely naked. He sometimes giggles as the fresh air hits his feet after he’s taken off his shoes, and the naked Callum represents that same shoeless sentiment, but with a full-body intensity. He runs around the room, and laughs, and unashamedly climbs up onto my back as I sit on the floor, flipping up over my head and onto the floor again. The ultimate embodiment of his comfort in his own skin, however, is when he grabs his toy hammer and strikes a pose, curling his bicep as he grasps the plastic handle, staring at himself in the mirror, his face half-smile and half-tough-guy sneer. Often, there’s even a little growl to accompany this naked show of boyish strength. I can only imagine this kid as a teenager. May he remain so joyous in his love for his own body.
