15 September 2011
on being fancy
As we exited the school today, we ran into Stefan's mom. Stefan's mom is a genuinely warm and lovely lady who always takes the time to chat, to ask how things are going. We stood on the sidewalk for some time discussing the comings and goings of our summers. Then we did the obligatory muh-muh, right-left and parted ways, agreeing to get our families together soon.
I turned to Young One, "Isn't she just a nice lady? I really like her."
She looked up at me, and excitedly replied, "Oh, yes! And she is beautiful too, Mamma. Did you see her pearls? She is so fancy, Mamma. Did you see her shoes? Her shoes were the best. Even they had pearls. Did you see? Did you see?" Then she continued at length to describe her shoes in great detail. She would love to have those shoes.
Of course I didn't notice her shoes or her pearls or her dress or her bag. (It's difficult not to notice that she is a beautiful, elegant woman.)
Of course I was dressed in worn summer sandals, chinos, and a polo shirt. Not an ounce of fancy. I even had a canvas bag.
My girl loves fancy.
I am many things. Fancy is not one of them.
At least she thinks I'm beautiful, too. Though, she has requested that I become more fancy a time or two.
Not happening, Baby Girl.
The back-to-school rush is slowing a bit, at least for Young One and me. I hope to catch up on blog reading and post some back-to-school pics this weekend. I was also featured in an interview on another blog and hope to share a bit about that. For now. . . time to make dinner because the man (who usually runs the kitchen in my house) is away for work, again.
Topics: Cultural Conflicts