Megan

I'm writing this for you.
For you to remember.
You're two.
You found a dress on my bed. About your size.
You asked who was going to wear it.
I said, 'You'.
You can't imagine the joy on your face.
I told you it was for your birthday. You started singing, 'Happy Birthday Megan!' Your birthday is two months away.
But your aunt, Joanne, in tradition with and being completely true to herself has already bought you your present (TWO MONTHS IN ADVANCE). A lovely long, blue dress, that will make you look like a princess.
I tell you that we'll get you a tiara, a cheap one from behind Commercial Street. 'A cheap one', you say, like it's something special. 'Cheap'. So, quickly to save my reputation I tell you that it doesn't matter whether it's cheap or not. It's going to be pretty and THAT's the important thing. Effectively sowing the seed of superficiality and instilling an unhealthy sense of commercialism in your innocent little heart. heh :)
So you start saying, 'Hello Megan's birthday'. I think it's my fault that you do that. I make you say hello to inanimate objects like the sun and the trees and Missy and Tiger our stray dogs and if you throw something on the ground, like a finger puppet, I tell you that it's crying because you did that.
You continue, 'Hello Megan's birthday, hello Megan's dress'. 'Happy Birthday Megan', you sing then you clap and blow out your candle. It's all in your head. You've even made the guest list. Mamma, Maya and me.
It's something special to watch the person that you are. Words don't even come close.
♥