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  • Writer's pictureA is for Agape

Little Girls and Mummies

This week my son has been going to a science day camp at our Nature and Science Museum. Every day, my daughter and I drop him off with his counselors. He walks away easily. He has his favorite teachers and prefers the company of the little girls. He says they are nicer and quieter. His sister and I wave our goodbyes and start our day.

It is the first time that my daughter has had my undivided attention for such a long period of time. Oh, sure, in the past we’ve had girl’s days and some evenings she and I sit together reading and cuddling while the boys do garage stuff. But this is a whole week she and I get to be together, just the two of us.

I’m really enjoying the time. I’m getting to know her differently. I’ve always known that she and her brother are distinct beings. From the day she was born I knew this child would keep me on my toes, always coming up with new ways to show me that I can’t coast by on life, that I must watch her be lovely.

And that’s what I have done this week. I have seen each of the ways she is uniquely herself. She dances when no one is watching, sings loudly with little prompting. She plays dress up and roars like a lion. She likes to sit in the front row when they put on shows or do story-time. She has questions for everyone and isn’t afraid to ask when things aren’t perfectly clear.

I have also learned that she is incredibly fascinated by the mummy exhibit at the museum and asks to go there as soon as we walk away from her brother. She stares in fascination at the dirty wrapped corpse behind the glass. She asks what the designs on the wood coffin mean. She wants to know if the man in the painting is a king, was he a good king. She asks these questions between staring and pointing. She won’t let it go. She wants me to walk her through the process, from death to this black hardened mass in front of us.

My little girl is tiny. She has perfect pixie features that sparkle. She doesn’t walk, she prances. She’s not afraid of anything. She says she’s a big girl at least ten times a day. She wants to know when she will be big like me. It makes me smile and I tell her I love her just as she is right now. When she says she wants to grow up, inside I’m praying she stays my little girl for a while longer.

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