Before kids, Mr Sir and I would laugh about kids running into the middle of a room like a banshee, dancing the Elaine dance, then running out. I always pictured the kid to be a little boy.
I have little girls. I never expected my little girls to be banshees.
Until Claire.
We have two kinds of kids. The gifted, anxious, shy, well-mannered little 4-year-old girl, and then there’s Claire. She’s, well… Claire.
Anna is the easy one to describe. To label. To understand.
Claire is, well… Claire.
Claire will literally run in circles through the kitchen and living room until she gets too tired then runs the other way to unwind.
Claire will play for HOURS with her babies sending them to school, to time out, to Granma’s house, speaking to them like a little Mama.
Claire will take 30 seconds to decide on which color cup she wants, then undecide and cry over her undecision. Then decide on the original cup.
Claire will change her clean panties 3 times a day. She will demand to wear a specific shirt that doesn’t match a specific skirt, then change her mind an hour later.
Claire will be corrected for a minor MINOR problem, pout her lip out, and demand a kiss.
Claire will grow up too soon being a girlie girl, yet she HATES any type of grooming, especially having her hair combed.
When you ask how the girls are, and we say, “Claire is Claire,” take us at our word.
