My beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted, six-year old daughter loves to look nice.
Well, who doesn’t?
The problem is that her version of “looking nice” has a much broader definition than I would have ever guessed.
The other problem is that I’m already at work by the time she is getting ready for the day. That leaves her with my husband as her sole fashion advisor. He is the type of person that just doesn’t get it when I tell him that camouflage and plaid don’t go together. Everything goes with everything, is his school of thought. Camouflage especially goes with everything for any and all occasions.
So, why don’t I set clothes out for my daughter to eliminate any risk of my daughter going to school looking like she doesn’t have a mother? Well, first of all, I do sometimes lay out clothes for her the night before. Secondly, unless I happen to remember to do this while she is still awake and can participate in the selection process, she tends to edit my choices. Thirdly, I have a horrible memory.
Today, I picked her up from my father who had picked her up from school. She was wearing a brand new summer dress we purchased second hand recently. It is pretty adorable on her. Unfortunately, she was wearing it backwards.
It was obviously backwards, too. There is a bow and a ruffle that is on the front that clearly makes it appear to be the front. And it was clearly not in the front today. AND she made it past the two main men in her life without either noticing.
Not so horrible on its own, I know. The other item of clothing she chose to wear with her backwards dress is her denim, knee-length skirt. Also recently purchased second hand. This was hanging about two inches below the hem of the summer dress, and being the end of the day, it was on sideways. To top the ensemble off, she wore her brand new tennis shoes we purchased for running together.
When I noticed these things I smiled, hugged her, shook my head and laughed. She is just too adorable even when she is wearing her clothes backwards and sideways. I mentioned to her the dress was backwards once we got home.
Her response was, “Are we going anywhere or having company?”
I shook my head no, and off she went to her room. She soon returned wearing her underwear only. She hit the lever on the recliner extending the foot rest, climbed on to the recliner, leaned back and sighed a happy, contented sigh.
What else could I do but join her in that happy contentment?
I wouldn’t trade moments like these for anything in the world.