April 30, 1986
Nothing is more endearing than the sight of a little girl playing dress-up in shoes a mile too long, a dress that reaches beyond the floor, jewelry dangling from ear to ear and lipstick smeared across a mischievous face.
My how things change in a few short years. That endearing sight becomes one of dismay when the shoes fit perfectly and are right out of Mom’s closet, the dress is from the department where Mom shops and the lipstick is purchased with money she earned babysitting.
From the day my twelve year old was born I heard the cautioning phrase “just you wait.” The wait for the first step turned into a jog around the park, first word into a speech for class, first tooth to worries about needing braces, first haircut to curling, feathering and layering and first slumber party to a week at camp. While the heart strings tug as the growing up process progresses I have discovered my daughter can fill my shoes in more ways than one. She can chase the lawn mower (and now enjoys the novelty of it), load the dishwasher, washer and dryer (with the right kind of encouragement) and babysit her sister so I can grocery shop alone. Allowing her to warm up the car on a cold morning is considered a privilege and helping out at the office a lot of fun.
I was talking to a friend the other day who was telling me about her daughter’s experience going to the prom. She ended the conversation with “just you wait.” One thing I have learned – the wait is not too long.
CCW