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Over Christmas break Hubby, G, Little Missy and I traveled to Tulsa for a quick trip to see my parents and attend the Christmas Train, a big production one of their local churches puts on. We got there early because my mom suggested the two of us go clothes shopping for the kids, and as any parent knows, when a Nana offers to buy your kids nice new outfits that you don’t have to pay for, the answer is always “Yes, I will be there.”
While the girls headed to the mall for clothes the boys headed to golf stores to look for golf clubs. Little Missy, being a girl and thereby getting stuck with us, was not pleased. Trapped in a clothes store without her brother, without her comrade to chase and giggle, did not make a happy girl. So the whole way to the store Nana and I guaranteed a pouting Little Missy that our trip would be fast and she’d be back to playing at Nana’s house in no time.
We walked into the store and my daughter saw a doggy shirt--dogs and cats being her two favorite things in the whole world--and something in her snapped. The little girl who doesn’t care about clothes (unless she’s wearing a dress in which she can twirl; and what little girl doesn’t love to twirl?) suddenly loved all clothes in that “pretty clothes” store. She was pulling clothes off the shelves, holding them up to her little body to assess the size, and handing them to my mother with a quick “I want this, Nana!” before moving on to the next shirt that caught her eye. My mother and I, though, quietly put back most of those clothes before she noticed. Nana wanted to buy her clothes, but come on, the girl didn’t need that many.
When we got back to Nana and Grandpa’s house Little Missy was all too proud to show off her new purchases and wear her new clothes to the Christmas Train that night. Then the next morning she ran into my quiet bedroom and whispered in my ear, “Mommy, where are my jeans from the pretty clothes store?”
Yep, my little girl is growing up.
Over Christmas break Hubby, G, Little Missy and I traveled to Tulsa for a quick trip to see my parents and attend the Christmas Train, a big production one of their local churches puts on. We got there early because my mom suggested the two of us go clothes shopping for the kids, and as any parent knows, when a Nana offers to buy your kids nice new outfits that you don’t have to pay for, the answer is always “Yes, I will be there.”
While the girls headed to the mall for clothes the boys headed to golf stores to look for golf clubs. Little Missy, being a girl and thereby getting stuck with us, was not pleased. Trapped in a clothes store without her brother, without her comrade to chase and giggle, did not make a happy girl. So the whole way to the store Nana and I guaranteed a pouting Little Missy that our trip would be fast and she’d be back to playing at Nana’s house in no time.
We walked into the store and my daughter saw a doggy shirt--dogs and cats being her two favorite things in the whole world--and something in her snapped. The little girl who doesn’t care about clothes (unless she’s wearing a dress in which she can twirl; and what little girl doesn’t love to twirl?) suddenly loved all clothes in that “pretty clothes” store. She was pulling clothes off the shelves, holding them up to her little body to assess the size, and handing them to my mother with a quick “I want this, Nana!” before moving on to the next shirt that caught her eye. My mother and I, though, quietly put back most of those clothes before she noticed. Nana wanted to buy her clothes, but come on, the girl didn’t need that many.
When we got back to Nana and Grandpa’s house Little Missy was all too proud to show off her new purchases and wear her new clothes to the Christmas Train that night. Then the next morning she ran into my quiet bedroom and whispered in my ear, “Mommy, where are my jeans from the pretty clothes store?”
Yep, my little girl is growing up.
