Princess Bettina

Princess Bettina, that’s what we call our 9 year old daughter when she is acting a little naughty but we think it’s cute and so we do nothing. Friday, I was never so glad to see her sweet face and I vowed to cherish her all weekend. I said I would be perfect mommy, but on Saturday when she lost her coat at dance recital, I did yell a bit and told her that she needed to be responsible, and then she said, “Mom but how about my dance, did you see it? Was it good?” And I was crushed and heartbroken and sorry that I didn’t say that to her first.

After, I went to Wal-Mart for a few last minute items. She usually asks if she can ride in the cart like she did as a baby and toddler and I say, “No, please, you are a big girl now.” But on Saturday, I said “Of course!!” And my husband hoisted her lanky frame into the buggy where she sat in the large basket, delighted to have achieved such a victory. K and I pushed her around the store putting whatever she asked for (Juicy Fruit gum and a soda) into the cart without question.  We made googly eyes at each other and said, “Oh look at our daughter, Princess Bettina, isn’t she beautiful? How can we serve you Princess Bettina?” She laughed it up and as we left the store me, the original Safety Scissors ran, pushing the cart as fast as I could, then let go screaming, “hahaha, no hands no hands.” She replied with more grins and the appropriate squeals of faux terror.

Laters.