Thursday, August 14, 2008

Tu(tu) much

Never, ever in my life --
did I think I would have a little girly girl.  


And never, ever in my life -- 
did I think that she would want a tutu.

Well, let me tell you something:

The girl has a tutu.  The tutu to end all tutus if I do say.  And I made it myself.

Excuse me, what?

Yes yes, me -- the one whose mother played ice hockey and semi-professional softball and struggled to sew a button onto my father's pants -- I made a tutu.  That's right, me.  The girl who owns a sewing machine she doesn't know how to use, who struggled with the concept of wearing a dress on her wedding day, who only went to the ballet in college because the tickets were free -- I MADE A FREAKING TUTU.  A shiny, frilly, fabulous pink tutu complete with a smashing pink peony at the waist.

Oh, there will be pictures.  Don't you worry.  Pictures a-plenty.

I love that the bear is a girly-girl despite the fact that her Mama, most definitely, is not.  She certainly has opened my eyes to the frilly side of life and I hate to admit it, but...  it's not so bad.  (Shhhhh.  I didn't say that.)

The trick of course will be to convince her to not wear the tutu while caving, climbing, and carousing with her father.  Because -- wouldn't you know --  girly-girl also happens to be a tom-boy, too.  


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