Alice sits on the front step. I am tying her shoes.
Alice: I'm a little girl?
Me: Do you think you're a little girl?
Alice: (nodding) I think.
Me: Not a big girl?
Alice: No.
Me: You used to be a baby.
Alice: I remember.
Me: Pretty soon you'll be a big girl. After that, you'll be a teenager. Then you'll be an adult, like me.
Alice: Not like you. Like Mummy.
Me: Right. And maybe you'll be a mummy, too. And then maybe you'll be a grandma. And then... you'll be an old lady.
Alice: An old lady.
Alice considers this. I finished tying her shoe a few moments ago.
Alice: Wheeeeeeeeeeee!
She runs away with her arms trailing behind like some sort of superhero cape.
1 comment:
Ouch, my heart! So sweet. Almost bittersweet, but mostly just super sweet. (read as my littler-than-Alice girl makes waking up noises ...)
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