Yeah, I Know
"Mom I need to tell you something." Melina looks up at me, her eyes wide and bright. I think, maybe, what she has to say is important. So I stop in my tracks.
"Okay, Melina. Go ahead." I kneel down in front of her, an action which allows me to look directly into her eyes.
"I used to not be able to wear lip gloss," she says, and flicks her gaze toward the mirror in the dining area. "I could wear lipstick, but not lip gloss." She ends the sentence with a huge nod of her head and looks at me out of the sides of her eyes. "I could wear lipstick but not lip gloss. Because when I was young, I used to lick my lips and the lip gloss would come off." She tosses her hands in the air. "Lipstick wouldn't come off, but lip gloss would. But now that I'm older, I can wear lip gloss." The grin of the Cheshire Cat spreads across her face.
I have so many thoughts tumbling around in my head. That she is too young to be wearing either lip gloss or lipstick. That she makes me laugh with her penchant for cosmetics. That the expression on her face--a countenance full of seriousness--has the potential to send me into convulsions. But she won't really understand why I am laughing, and I think she really wants a response from me. Plus, I am listening to her. I am present. I want her to know this fact.
"Huh." I push the strand of hair that always falls into her face away from her nose. "I'm glad to know that, honey. It's always good to know that you've matured and can do things you couldn't at one point." Just looking at her sweet face does me in, and I place a swift kiss on the tip of her nose.
"Yeah, I know." She smiles again, this time at me, as if my answer confirms for her what she already knew to be true: she already had everything figured out. And she's right. Melina didn't need for me to tell her what I did. Because what I said, was exactly what she'd already told me, but in different words. She'd already said that she had matured, right? I mean, she used to lick the lip gloss off and now she doesn't.
And, as if to add insult to injury, or to simply remind me that even six-year-old girls can be so extremely wise, she nods one last time and whispers again, "Yeah, I know."
I hope she also knows just how much I love her.
"Okay, Melina. Go ahead." I kneel down in front of her, an action which allows me to look directly into her eyes.
"I used to not be able to wear lip gloss," she says, and flicks her gaze toward the mirror in the dining area. "I could wear lipstick, but not lip gloss." She ends the sentence with a huge nod of her head and looks at me out of the sides of her eyes. "I could wear lipstick but not lip gloss. Because when I was young, I used to lick my lips and the lip gloss would come off." She tosses her hands in the air. "Lipstick wouldn't come off, but lip gloss would. But now that I'm older, I can wear lip gloss." The grin of the Cheshire Cat spreads across her face.
I have so many thoughts tumbling around in my head. That she is too young to be wearing either lip gloss or lipstick. That she makes me laugh with her penchant for cosmetics. That the expression on her face--a countenance full of seriousness--has the potential to send me into convulsions. But she won't really understand why I am laughing, and I think she really wants a response from me. Plus, I am listening to her. I am present. I want her to know this fact.
"Huh." I push the strand of hair that always falls into her face away from her nose. "I'm glad to know that, honey. It's always good to know that you've matured and can do things you couldn't at one point." Just looking at her sweet face does me in, and I place a swift kiss on the tip of her nose.
"Yeah, I know." She smiles again, this time at me, as if my answer confirms for her what she already knew to be true: she already had everything figured out. And she's right. Melina didn't need for me to tell her what I did. Because what I said, was exactly what she'd already told me, but in different words. She'd already said that she had matured, right? I mean, she used to lick the lip gloss off and now she doesn't.
And, as if to add insult to injury, or to simply remind me that even six-year-old girls can be so extremely wise, she nods one last time and whispers again, "Yeah, I know."
I hope she also knows just how much I love her.
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