She stands fuming in the hallway, head cocked to one side and her hands angrily on her hips. Her tiny feet are engulfed by my oversized high-heeled shoes she is playing with. She is on the verge of blowing up or worse yet, crying.
Does she know how absolutely adorable she is?
I stifle back the laughter as I giggle to myself and try to be the adult figure I’m supposed to be and tell her to pick up her toys. Begrudgingly she concedes, head held low, whining profusely as if what I have just told her is going to be her ultimate death. She tells me that she doesn’t like me anymore and part of my heart sinks into my stomach.
I get over it.
She picks up one toy at a time despite having full use of arms, mouth and armpits. It’s painstakingly slow but I resist the best I can from doing it for her. I can’t help it and pick up a set of high-heeled shoes she missed under a blanket. As I put them away, her whining fades and I hear the reminiscent of her playing just minutes before.
*Clip-clop* *Clip-clop* *CLIP-CLOP* *CLIP-CLOP* *CLIPPITYCLOP* *CLIPPITYCLOPPITYCLOP*
She plays with my shoes all the time pretending she is the Queen of the world or better yet – a mother. They are strewn all over the house most days when I return home after a long day at work. I can’t help but feel warm all over and nothing can stop the smirk that creeps across my face knowing that she missed me.
Does she know what she means to me?
The toys are put away finally and I tell her what a great job she has done. She is proud of her accomplishment and so am I. She is over her feelings of dislike of me and we are best friends again as she grabs my hand to walk down the condo’s short hallway. I sit on the couch and she sits next to me snuggling into my arm for the first time in a year without hesitation.
Without hesitation…
*smiling*
No comments:
Post a Comment