Last night while getting ready for the big school Gala I came out of our bedroom to show the girls my outfit. I was wearing a great thrift store dress with a pair of brown boots and I thought I looked pretty amazing.
"Mom, I love that dress. But you're going to be out late and I'm worried you're going to be cold."
"I'm going to wear a jacket, Lil."
"But your legs. Your legs will get cold."
I glanced down and my bare knees and realized she wasn't wrong. We'd be having some wicked weather in sunny SoCal and tonight was supposed to be epic.
"I... I don't know what to do about my legs."
"Do you have any tights?"
I am not a girly girl, so having tights is not a given.
"I want you to go check your drawer for some tights."
I found two pair and brought them back, now rendered completely unable to make a decision without the aid of my eight-year-old. "Which ones?"
She carefully considered them both. "The black ones. Go try them on and let us see."
I came back a few moments later, black tights under my boots. "How's this?"
"That looks great, Mom!"
And I got more compliments that night then I have in years.
I swear, it's all downhill from here. Before I know it, she'll be in charge of everything.