Friday, August 15, 2008

Pretty Dress

Jada's evening seemed to be going great: she had a good dinner, got to watch some Charlie Brown, and even had a poopy in the potty.  Bedtime stories went well, she brushed her teeth good, and seemed fine when I kissed her goodnight and left her bedroom.

But within five minutes, the waterworks began.  I went down once, and then a second time, to see what was the matter.  The second time, between tears and gasps, she pointed to her closet and said, "I want to wear a pretty dress tomorrow." 

I looked over at her bureau, where tomorrow's clothes were waiting for her: a pink top and black shorts.  I guess Jada wasn't feeling that ensemble.  I stifled an urge to chuckle, and with as much seriousness as I could muster, opened her closet door and asked, "How about the one with sunflowers?" 

She nodded her approval.  I asked her to hang the dress on the inside of her door, and then to close the door behind me.  I guess that's all it took to calm herself down to sleep, was the assurance that she'd look good in the morning.  Our little fashionista . . .
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