I adore my three-year-old niece, Jaime. She is, to me, what dark chocolate and red wine are to other people - that one thing that chases the gloom away. It's mainly her hugs that do it. Since she is all three-year-old plump and soft as a peach, hugging her is like hugging a marshmallow. It's delicious.
Sometimes, however, I think she is as taken with herself as I am. She is, of course, the flowergirl for my wedding on Saturday. Since this was also the year of Prince Willian (as she calls him) and Princess Kate, she has been rather taken by the thought of nuptials and much planning has gone into her outfit. She has spent hours debating who will have the honour of carrying her train (which she has graciously bestowed on me - funny, because I kind of had another role in mind for myself) as well as selecting the finishing touches for her flowergirl outfit: fairy wings and a tiara.
She was very excited to show my this ensemble last night. I naturally oohed and ahhed and she accepted my compliments with poise, eventually saying, "Yes, I will look beautiful at your wedding" and then, sadly, "You won't'." My dismay, after months of gruelling krav maga and cake denial, must have been noticeable even to her three-year-old eyes because she finally capitulated, telling, "Ok. You will be special too."
Surely Princess Kate didn't have to put up with such insubordination?
Sometimes, however, I think she is as taken with herself as I am. She is, of course, the flowergirl for my wedding on Saturday. Since this was also the year of Prince Willian (as she calls him) and Princess Kate, she has been rather taken by the thought of nuptials and much planning has gone into her outfit. She has spent hours debating who will have the honour of carrying her train (which she has graciously bestowed on me - funny, because I kind of had another role in mind for myself) as well as selecting the finishing touches for her flowergirl outfit: fairy wings and a tiara.
She was very excited to show my this ensemble last night. I naturally oohed and ahhed and she accepted my compliments with poise, eventually saying, "Yes, I will look beautiful at your wedding" and then, sadly, "You won't'." My dismay, after months of gruelling krav maga and cake denial, must have been noticeable even to her three-year-old eyes because she finally capitulated, telling, "Ok. You will be special too."
Surely Princess Kate didn't have to put up with such insubordination?
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