You Should Have Seen It

Yesterday Jack and I visited my mom and the Little Lady Ellery.

She was in fine comic form and I wish I had been able to capture her charming sentiments, but I will have to make do with simple words.  

Just imagine this cute face while you read:

Lately, my goal each time I see Ellery is to get her to let me fix her hair.  I love playing with her soft and unruly locks.  

Halloween was a delight for me because she was a fancy "Blue Ice Fairy" and that required fancy hair.  I had an excuse to pin her curls into a lovely updo.  What fun for a big sister. 

The problem is that she hates it.  

So I have to resort to trickery. 

Last year Andy and I were picking up house needs at, where else, Target.  He spied a pink baseball bat and pink helmet and announced that Ellery should have them.  We presented her with the girly equipment and she was elated.  She likes to play rough with Andy (last Christmas he gave her a kid sized pair of boxing gloves) and to pretend that she's sporty.  The truth is that she is, well, not very coordinated, but that makes it all the more fun for us to play with her.

Is that awful?  

Yesterday she announced that we should play baseball.  I, in true sisterly fashion, told her that all the girls that play baseball have to wear their hair in braids.  I said, "Sure I'll play baseball!  But that means we have to braid your hair first."  Inset wicked laugh here. She immediately found a comb and two rubber bands and I spent several minutes putting her hair in twin french braids.  

Then we proceeded to play baseball.  She first was using her heavy metal bat, which was frightening with her awkward swings and Jack's head relatively near by. We convinced her to use a red umbrella instead.  My mom had to take several swings at the ball with both of us making wild exclamations about how well it worked for her to buy into the idea.  

The game progressed from swinging to hit the ball, to swinging with the intention of twirling.  When it was obvious that she wasn't interested in batting any more I made bases out of paper and told her that I was her coach and she should run the bases.  I explained to her what a "drill" was and she made several laps very eagerly.  

At the end of our practice she announced that it must be time for the team to have their snack and she sat on the couch with her Handisnack cheese and crackers. 

As she was resting and eating, conversation turned toward a cruise that Ellery and my mom are going on this spring.

Suddenly Ellery launched into a wistful reverie about what she expected the vacation to hold. 

"I'll make sand angles. And I'll sit on the beach and just relax."

Relax?  What is so stressful about being FOUR that requires relaxing on the beach?

Her far off look, with her dreamy voice sent me into a fit of giggles.

When I recovered I asked, "What will you eat on the beach?"

"Coconuts."

My mom added pineapple.

I said, "Maybe a mango."

"What's a mango?"

"It is a very yummy fruit."

Dreamy, romantic voice: "Yes.  Sweet, juicy mangos."

Another fit of laughter.

Which of course only encourages Ellery to keep talking and dreaming.

We talked about the cruise some more and enjoyed a little girl's thoughts on bikins and swimming pools and what classes she might take in the cruise line's Kids Club.

But oh, those sweet juicy mangos.

I'll say it again.  I love that girl.