Shrinky My Dinky

If you’re a fan of piperism, you probably already know how much I loathe arts and crafts. Glitter gives me a panic attack. I was forbidden from puffy painting in my sorority. I just can’t make things. But Sissy and Piper love to. They’re both crafty. Sissy has her own sewing machine. She loves embroidery, whatever that means. Being a more is more kind of girl, Piper, too, loves to embellish everything in sight with color, beads, and sparkly stuff. My heart is beating faster just writing this.

I may be the only mother in North America who has never done shrinky dinks. I didn’t even know what they were. A dear friend gave Piper a kit for the holidays. I tried to hide it before she saw it, but she had a playdate the next day and added it to their fun agenda. “Mom, Alex and I can do Shrinky my Dinky tomorrow! ¬†She’ll love it!” Giggle. Snort. I was too busy laughing inappropriately to defend myself.

Creativity for Kids Shrinky Dink Deluxe

So, shrinky my dink they did. It turned out that I didn’t have to do much which is probably why the shrinky dinks turned out at all. Piper even hunted down colored pencils in our house. Sissy had them, of course. After the coloring, Piper and Alex watched the magic in the oven. I may have peeked. It was kind of cool.


Best part? No mess. Happy kids. Whew.

Dear Paty Kerry

Dear Paty Kerry,

My daughter, Piper, wants to be you. She’s five-years-old and is one of your biggest fans. In fact, for Halloween, Piper wants to wear a costume that she’s designed to be Paty Kerry.

It’s not just your blue hair that she adores. She understands your love of all things glitter. She feels that you are a kindred spirit. Piper likes to dress in costumes every day, just like you. She loves singing and dancing, just like you. And she believes in magical places, like the kind of that you invent on stage. When Piper sings “Firework,” she channels your energy and believes she really can go Boom, Boom, Boom. In fact, Piper’s birthday is just a few days past July 4th and she thinks that song was written just for its occasion.

I do steer Piper away, though, from some of your more mature lyrics. But mostly I just manage to keep them contained to our home. She’s in kindergarten after all and far from her first teenage dream, if you know what I mean. She hasn’t started kissing anyone yet, let alone girls and liking it. I’d love more G rated material from you by the way. It would really make my job easier. Piper doesn’t get most of what your lyrics say, but it’s a bit disarming to see her belt out Baby, let’s go all the way tonight on her walk to school. Fortunately, Piper thinks in your skin tight jeans is in your skim milk jeans, which is much more nutritious and probably explains why you can get into those jeans anyway.

And here’s Piper’s country version:

So if you decide you need a five-year-old back up singer on your next tour, Piper’s ready and waiting.


Piper’s Mom

P.S. I do realize your name is actually Katy Perry but not according to Piper. Sorry.

Everything’s Better With Glitter

Piper came home from a birthday party with a craft kit. It was packed full of all the objects I forbid in this house: glitter, pom poms, multi-colored pipe cleaners, glitter glue, sparkly stick-ons, plastic straws, more glitter.

These things terrify me. I don’t get what you’re supposed to do with them. Art projects are beyond me. See Piper’s Star of the Week poster if you don’t believe me. Piper had big plans with her craft kit.

“I’ve been plotting,” she began. “I know what I’m going to do with this stuff.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “What?” I braced myself at the kitchen table for the bad news.

“My plot is to make a glitter family. Of us.”

Sissy interrupted. “I don’t think you’re using the word ‘plot’ correctly.”

“Plot means to plan,” Piper answered. “I’m planning to make a glitter family. Of us. That’s my plot.”

She had us there. Protesting seemed futile. So, I did what parenting a Piper had taught me to do: I rolled up my sleeves and sat down to learn.

And a sort of glitter family indeed emerged from this craft box of foreign objects.

The likeness is uncanny.

“See, Mom,” Piper said, packing up her craft kit. “My plot worked!”