Friday, October 3, 2014
You & Me Day
I love your four-year-old self. I especially love you on Fridays. You've deemed our Fridays together as "You & Me Day." Because it's just you and me, kid.
No preschool. No brothers. No other kids. Not even Daddy.
It's lovely. I hope desperately that your little 4 1/2 year old heart will remember these days. The trips to Target. And Starbucks. And Culver's (which you call Clovers.) I want desperately to remember them too...thus the blog.
I hope we both remember how I bribed you with the promise of a toy at Target, in order to get you to wear your new pink fuzzy boots, even though "they bug you," because all new shoes bug you.
And I hope we both remember how it took you f-o-r-e-v-e-r to choose something for your bribe. And that you came home with a Hello Kitty back-pack/purse thing and Hello Kitty lip gloss. And Doc McStuffin's band-aids.
Today you watched me get my hair cut, and then my *favorite stylist of all time* even braided your hair. And as you looked at your pretty face in her mirror, you smiled so big. I wish I could bottle that up so that every time you looked at your beautiful self in a mirror it made you smile like that. Because no matter what, you are always that beautiful to me.
And then we went to the cupcake store. Where you insisted we eat it there, and not take it home. Good call, Lu.
And then I promised you "Mc-N-Donald's" only to drive in the parking lot and leave because it was a total mad-house. Instead I fed you a quarter pounder and fries from the gas station. (you're likely going to grow up with a deep love for sugar. And fries. I'll own that, it came from me.)
And when we finally get home, and unload the van, it's usually time to get your boys from school. And our You & Me day is done...until next Friday.
I love Fridays. And I love you. May we make Target and Starbucks and Fast Food trips together always.
Hugs and Kisses (which you'll wipe off),