Broken-hearted

 I broke my daughter's heart this morning.

She's at the age where she wants to do whatever mommy is doing. She tries to help wash dishes, load the washing machine, etc. She sees me putting on make-up so she has to put on makeup. Not a morning goes by that she doesn't follow me into the bathroom to put on her 'wipgwoss', just like mom. Sometimes she has me put on a tiny bit of eye shadow and mascara, too. She saw me shaving my legs a couple of mornings ago and had lots of questions. *mental note: make sure to keep the razor far out of reach.

This morning . . . she saw me getting dressed for church. Nothing new or different. She's usually in my room when I'm getting ready, but for some reason she took special interest in my bra. She asked me what it was and said she wanted one too. I told her she wasn't old enough for one yet.

She completely fell apart. I mean REALLY fell apart. I mean on the floor, crying like her favorite pet had died, falling-apart.

Ah, the poor girl. She doesn't realize that once she has to wear a bra all the time, it's not so fun. And if she's blessed like I am it can even be painful and uncomfortable. And she'll wish they were smaller.

Maybe, if she's lucky, she'll be blessed to be like the women on her father's side of the family. But then, of course, she'll wish they were bigger.

It's a no win situation.