Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Ever has a gift of luminescence. She can light up a room, a soul, a long car ride to Idaho. She can sing you a song on the spot (lyrics and tune, by her) and can do a you a dance if you request. And she's pretty funny and clever--smart and quick. Her favorite show to watch is Rescue Bots. She likes to nap in the backyard on a soft blanket and a pillow (she has to have a pillow) and she loves to eat fries. Her charm can win almost anyone over to her side. She likes to swing high (towards the moon) at the park, go for rides on her red motorcycle, read books about bears and build towers with wood blocks. Her dramatic brown eyes seem to pop when she wears black, brown, lavender and white. But mostly black because that's the color that turns those eyes into weapons of mass persuasion.
On Saturday my Ever was invited to a princess birthday party. When the invitation arrived at our door a week earlier, I was a little concerned Ever wouldn't want to dress up like a princess. She's much more inclined to dress up like a masked ninja or a scowling witch. But Saturday afternoon when I told her the party was going to start soon, she picked through the dress-up box and came up the stairs with a pink puffy frock in hand. We put it on, completed it with a string of pearls and a hot pink head piece. I turned her towards the mirror and said, "Look Ev! You're a princess!" I thought she was going to melt with happiness. If we weren't running behind already, she would've stared at her pink being in the hallway mirror for the better part of the afternoon.
She kept giggling. Her little hands cupping her mouth. Giggling.
She felt pretty.
I watched as she headed out the door with Daddy, skipping down the street and around the corner in her multicolored sandals. Her confidence bounced like the hot pink head piece on top of her head. Life would never be so wonderful as Ever Jane's afternoon as a princess.
And hours later, when the party was over she came home--hot pink head piece in hand, newly coronated with a silver paper crown--and took it all off in favor of her flannel footed jammies with the penguins. (Those are her favorite.)
Please, let her feel pretty all the days of her life.
Is that too much to ask?