April 7, 2013

Oh! The Vanity

This morning, we woke up early. Brian and Daughter 1 would not be going to church, but Daughter 2 and I would. And, with Easter being a very recent memory, she wanted to look good. With a couple of really late nights and a garage sale under my belt in the past week, I just wanted to look presentable.

I showered and pulled my still wet hair back in a bun before I smeared on some lipgloss and blue eyeliner (I am not even lying). I decided God loved me the way I was and called myself good.

Daughter 2, on the other hand ... Girlfriend was a diva. After she showered, we dried her hair and plugged in my favorite flat iron. She lotion'd up her whole body and put on a new sundress that is simply darling. She changed her earrings to match her dress and sprayed just one (or nine) squirts of my perfume.

She touched up her pedicure that she got last week from the Easter Bunny, and she find matching flip flops. I know, I know ... matching flip flops might be the norm for you and yours but as for this house, it's a wonderful exception.

We straighten her already-straight hair until it was silky. We twisted the front wisps of hair back to the side and bobbypinned it in a very tween-y fashion. Satisfied with her look, she paraded her look in front her the recliner and her reclining Daddy.

"WOW," he said barely looking up from the computer, "You look fabulous." Living with me for the past fifteen years served the man well.

I went back to my room to get my shoes on and when I returned down the hallway toward the front of the house, I noticed the matching flip-flops in Daughter 2's doorway. Then I saw that her sundress was flung over the foot of her day bed.

"Where's Daughter 2?" I asked. My husband shrugged his shoulders. I checked the bathrooms. I checked the kitchen. I checked the office ... and then I glanced out the office window into the front yard.

"What are you doing?" I asked her as she flipped and flipped and flipped and flipped.

"Cartwheels," she answered, not even out of breath.

"Why did you change clothes?"

"'Cause I can't do cartwheels in my cute clothes," she explained as she flipped heels over her head.

"But we worked really hard to look nice for church," I whined explained.

"Right. But I wanted to do cartwheels, so I changed."

Alright then.
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