This is what we each looked like this morning:
Something ugly happens between age 4 and age 31...
However, upon rising at the ripe hour of 9 am, guilt got the better of me, and I called Isabella back as I was making coffee. She had a lot to say today, most of it involving -- again -- birthday parties and Dora the Explorer.
When I asked how my old Cabbage Patch doll was faring, she said, "We washed her face," and then recounted in great detail how she and my mother (who was visiting her in Denver a couple of weeks ago) washed Jacobina Jessalyn's face with soapy water and a washcloth (have I mentioned that my mother is a complete clean freak?... this sort of thing was run-of-the-mill in my childhood), and "we even cleaned her eyes, Kit." Ahh, yes, I'm not surprised...
BTW, this is what happens when
you Google search for "dirty doll."
Interestingly, this isn't the first time I had heard about "the great Cabbage Patch face wash"... in fact, Isabella called me right after the scrub-down took place, while my mother was still out there. It appears as though the cleaning of the doll has left an indelible impression upon her little mind. Let's hope she actually has some fun with the thing now.
Well, I'd love to write more, but I have another final paper to write (this time on Islamic Law in Saudi Arabia, which I am completely dreading). Too bad though because I thought of two more really terrible songs that I wanted to write about (each of which has a "story" behind it), but I will save that until tomorrow. Two hints though: marching band and braces. That's right, the stuff high school nightmares are made of...
Until then... I will think about the golden days of my pre-teen youth, when I too was up at the crack of dawn to enjoy another day of parties, pinatas, and playing house.
Waking up seemed so easy then...
Time: 6:30 a.m. and smiling.
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