If You Have to Ask

I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon getting the Sissy ready for her first day of school. She needed just the right outfit, just the right shoes, just the right earrings, and just the right unmentionables. Piper stayed home with her Daddy so that she could participate in what we are now dubbing “Battery Fest ’12,” in which every toy/remote/flashlight that wasn’t working because we’ve stolen batteries from it finally received replacement batteries. Piper with a screwdriver is a frightening thing. I was happy to be stuck in multiple dressing rooms instead.

When we arrived home, there was a fashion show, of course. And there were speeding remote control race cars transporting Lalaloopsies throughout the fashion show, of course. Sissy is feeling great about her first day. She happily pranced through the room showing us her new outfit, which looks exactly like something I wore in 1983, dodging the cars that Piper aimed directly at her feet.

“I feel so special!” Sissy said, spinning around so that we could see her skinny jeans and neon accessories. “You’re the best mom,” she gushed. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”

Sniff. Sniff. There were tears. Hugs. Gratitude.

It might have been the best moment of my life.

Piper stopped zooming the cars around the room, turned to Sissy with an incredulous look, and said “Why?”

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4 thoughts on “If You Have to Ask

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