Two Thousand Ten

Isn't she oozing with sweetness?

Not realizing how stinkin' cute she really is.

Just pedaling along, ringin' the bell, in sassy sandals with lace trim socks.

Lipstick red shades.

Not a care in the world.

Not thinking about trying to balance life. Or what to make for supper.

Not thinking about flossing and Crest White Strips.

Not psychoanalyzing her issues.

I sometimes wish I could be that girl for one day.

Again. That was me almost 3 decades ago.

I still wear pigtails. (Not as cute)

And big sunglasses. (Still as cute)

I still like to dress up. On the days that I'm not in sweats and my red plaid flannel.

Pretty sure that outfit is going to start walking around on it's own.

I'm still sweet. Most of the time.

When it's not most of the time, I can be a big turd.

A grown-up tantrum of sorts.

Except I call it, Mom's. Gonna. Snap.

Or, momsgonnasnap.

Or, MOM IS GOING TO SNAP!!!!!!!!!!!

I've changed in other ways too.

My wheels have evolved from 3 to 4. Plus an engine.

I have smile lines and crow's feet. Just means I smile a lot. Not that I'm getting older.

I'm not terrified of helicopters anymore.

They don't send me screaming, sobbing and running hysterically in circles yelling, "HELLEEEEECOPTEEEUUUURRR!!!! HELLLLEEEEEECOPTEEEEUUUUUURRRR!!!

My mom says I sounded like I had a french accent when I did this. Tres chic.

I don't drag around a white blanket that resembles swiss cheese from the holes.

Instead of white lace trim socks, occasionally I'll have one sock inside out and one sock right side in. By the time I notice that one is inside-out, the inside, which is now the outside, is dirty, so I leave it that way. A quirk that I keep telling myself is cute.

I don't constantly sniff Strawberry Shortcake's hair.

But I would if I had her. She was so sweet.

So am I. Most of the time. Except when I'm a turd.

And still a little sassy.

And a tiny. bit. bad-assy.

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