…when you grow up

Because it was a birthday party, little Emily insisted in wearing a dress, and a tiara, although we were mostly weary grumpy adults getting together two days after my niece’s actual birthday.  A couple episodes of Grey’s Anatomy pestered from the tv in the living room.

Emily pirouetted and waved her arms, for a long while.  “She thinks she’s a ballerina.  All the time,” her mother informed us, but still somehow more bemused than tired of it.

“No!  Not a ballerina – I’m gonna be a cowgirl!”

What do cowgirls do?  Do you like cows?

“I like horses!”

So you’re going to be a cowgirl who rides horses, then?”

“Yes.”  Emily bobbed her head.

Then she stopped her ballet for a moment, she couldn’t hide a smug little grin.  She said, loud enough for everyone to hear, but with the veil of a conspiratorial whisper.

“But I really want to be a unicorn!”

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