Alice, in denial

Alice sits on the front step. I am tying her shoes.

Alice: I'm a little girl?

Me: Do you think you're a little girl?

Alice: (nodding) I think.

Me: Not a big girl?

Alice: No.

Me: You used to be a baby.

Alice: I remember.

Me: Pretty soon you'll be a big girl. After that, you'll be a teenager. Then you'll be an adult, like me.

Alice: Not like you. Like Mummy.

Me: Right. And maybe you'll be a mummy, too. And then maybe you'll be a grandma. And then... you'll be an old lady.

Alice: An old lady.

Alice considers this. I finished tying her shoe a few moments ago.

Alice: Wheeeeeeeeeeee!

She runs away with her arms trailing behind like some sort of superhero cape.

1 comment:

Jenna said...

Ouch, my heart! So sweet. Almost bittersweet, but mostly just super sweet. (read as my littler-than-Alice girl makes waking up noises ...)