In My Daughter's Eyes

Do you remember that Martina McBride song from a few years ago? 

A real tear-jerker, right? Luckily for all of us, I'm not here to get sappy, friends. Why am I here? To lay some the brutal truth of a pre-schooler on you!

Boo has been asking me for a few days to "pweez twim da bangs!" and I knew that if I didn't get out the scissors today, she would take matters into her own hands. 

"Mommy, I want my hair to yook yike yours - wiff da bangs and dis wite here."

"You want bangs across or to the side?"

"Yike yours, Mommy! So we can be twinsies!"

As I'm trimming her bangs with a snip, snip, snip, it hits me that this little girl is asking to look like me because she thinks I'm cool. AND. IT. ABSOLUTELY. MELTS. ME. 

"What do you think, Mar? Do they look alright?"

"Yep! Jus yike yours!"

We continue with our hair cutting and she talks all about how she's going to use my shampoo and how she's going to brush out all of her own tangles, and I'm fucking just giddy over the fact that she's still young enough to think her mom is stylish.

"Who wiw I yook yike when I'm a grow'd up, Mommy?"

"Hmmm... I think you'll probably look like me, but with blonde hair."

"Oh! Ok! But wiw I yook jus yike you?"

"Not just like me, but you'll look a lot like me I think."

"Wiff dose dots on my face yike yours?"

"My freckles?"

"No, dose wed dots yike on your chin and sometimes dey move to diff'went pyaces..."

"Pimples? Those are pimples, Marlee."

"Yeah, I don't want dose!"

Stylish, far from flawless though. Obviously.