This morning, you wanted to wear a short sleeved dress. I brought out some leggings to wear with it. “But Mom,” you protested, “WHY do I have to wear a short sleeved dress with something LONG on the bottom?” After a couple of attempts to convince you to wear the leggings, I left, and told you to get dressed.
You put shorts on under that short sleeved dress. Your skinny legs looked banged up, bruised, and you had one skinned knee. Tomboy legs under a pink dress.
As I was fixing your hair in your sister’s bedroom, a breeze came in through the window. “Close the window! I’m cold!” you demanded. I closed the window, and commented that it was still chilly outside. “I think I’m going to go put on some leggings,” you decided.
“That’s a good idea,” I said. I was so proud of you for not being stubborn; for deciding on your own that you should put on those leggings that Mom (not Mommy) had put out for you.
It didn’t hurt that those leggings were pink, with sparkles.
(More on those bruised-up legs coming soon….)