A light pink mouth lifts upwards, a smiling pink mouth that laughs with joy as I try to mimic your motions. Your arms form a warm crib that I crawl into. You laugh again, and I do, too. I don’t know why, but I am happy.
At six, I am still happy. You and I probably look outlandish to visitors—two girls playing with dolls; two girls trying to cook; two girls having way too much fun window-shopping and trying on shirts in a tiny fitting room. But tomorrow morning, you will transform into a lady as you go to work. I think it’s magic. In your outfit, you do look sort of scary; an air of adulthood and authority surrounds you . I don’t worry, though, for tonight you will transform into a young girl, and I know you will play ‘animals’ again.
Now, I am as tall as you, but I would not turn down any opportunity to call you my idol, my ally and my companion. Thanks, Mom, for always loving and supporting this crazy child. And though I may act annoying by running around trying to hug you as you cook to avoid studying for a physics quiz, I am so happy to call you my mom. 🙂