Girly Girl

I can remember my grandmother referring to me as a tomboy on more than one occasion.  When Abby was little, she would carry around he purse filled with Matchbox cars.  She’s always enjoyed being a girly girl and a tomboy, all at the same time.  Until…she entered middle school.

We completed our first round of back-to-school shopping last Sunday.  I’ve never been a huge fan of shopping in general.  Well, unless we’re shopping for home improvement stuff…I could spend endless time and money in Lowe’s and Home Depot.  Endless.  Anyway, Abby loves shopping.  Loves.  Loves.  Loves.  She enjoys picking out clothes.  Trying on clothes.  Prancing around in front of a mirror in clothes.  Bless her heart, she’s happy just trying stuff on.  No need to buy.  (I have no idea where she inherited this from.  For real…she didn’t get it from me.  If I go to the effort pick something, try it on and it fits, that sucker is going home with me.)

After we finished shopping for some back to school items, Abby asked to try on some semi-formal and formal dresses, just for fun.  I figured I’d humor her and she tried on a handful of dresses that she found on some of the sale and clearance racks.

[Let me pause here.  This is the girl that went to basketball camp a few weeks ago at Penn State Behrend and McDowell High School.  The same girl who likes to bargain to NOT take a shower some nights.  The same girl who might actually be willing to skip brushing her teeth for days at a time if the dragon breath didn’t melt my nose from across the dining room table.]

Yesterday, I think I finally appreciated that my little girl who toted her stuffed cat (Tabby) to DisneyWorld at the age of 2 was now a young lady.  And, by all accounts, she’s a very beautiful young lady.

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