We’ve always known Peanut would be the independent type. When she was around six months old, we met with a Chinese astrologer (and good friend of my mother in law). Connie studied Peanut’s date and time of birth, to check for the presence of certain elements (metal, water, wood, fire and earth); concluding that she would “have a mind of her own”, and “be difficult to control”. Eh. Of course, she did tell us that Peanut would be a “good girl”, and “we wouldn’t have to worry about her”. All this garnered from a few simple numbers; 3/14/09, and 6:36 am. It’s incredible, really.
And over time, her independence has become more and more apparent. She’s begun expressing a strong opinion over most everything; particularly her wardrobe. For instance, she now refuses to wear any jacket but a silver sleeveless vest from Old Navy. Not entirely appropriate on those days when the mercury drops below 50. But I’ve realized it’s not worth the argument. Recently, it’s become an issue with respect to hair. Having to endure the twenty seconds it takes to create a ponytail is just far too much. She struggles and shrieks while I force the elastic. It’s not pretty, but I generally win.
Then today, Peanut selected something different; a pair of wings gifted by my mother. She held them up, and requested my help. Glowing from the realization that she can actually say the word “butterfly”, I attached the wings to her shoulders. She skipped with glee to the mirror, admiring her appearance. And we left the house; mommy with her winged princess.
Perfectly appropriate, I guess. Because when else is it socially acceptable to wear a costume in public?
Ah. To be two.