Sophie made a startling announcement tonight as she got ready to camp out in my bed (the hubby is traveling and I’ve made it a tradition to let the girls hang out in our bed when he’s not around).
I asked her to get her stuffed animals and towels (old burp cloths that are to her what the blanket was to Linus) and she came back with her animal favorites, but no towels.
“Don’t you want your towels?” I asked. “No. They’re getting old.” “Don’t you think they’ll be lonely without you?” “Yes, but that’s ok. They’re old.” Wow. Those burp cloths have been a part of her life since I spawned her in the hospital.
When she made her pronouncement, I felt a pang of sadness. I’m getting older (ugh – almost 41) and that means my girls are getting older. I’m actually a bit traumatized that she might be ready to give those smelly old towels up. I’m going to have to take a photo of them for posterity.