attack of the girly-girls

as my MIL is wont to say, paybacks are a bitch. but sometimes, karmic paybacks are pretty hilarious.

i grew up with two older brothers. consequently, while i had my share of barbies, i grew up playing baseball, basketball, kill-the-guy-with-the-ball, and touch football. (my brothers thought it would be a hoot to teach me, a rightie, to bat lefty. to this day, i can only bat lefty. yep. our own homegrown version of stupid sister tricks.) i lasted just under a month in the brownies — when i learned that they didn’t play softball, i bailed faster than you could say jackie robinson. i was the fastest girl in my class until puberty reared its ugly whatever and i developed hips. most of my best friends throughout my high school days were guys.

i don’t think i wore a dress from 1973 through 1977.

so it comes as no karmic surprise that i birthed a girly-girl. BC loves her sparkles, her glitter, her hot pink and purple. at age two, the chick loved to spend hours in the shoe department. she may make fun of me on the rare days when i deign to wear makeup, but boy, put some in front of her and she’ll walk out in technicolor splendor. dolls? bring ’em on. hannah montana? yeah, baby. sephora? nirvana.

at first, i found it alien to do a lot of this sort of thing. anyone who knew me in high school knew i rarely wore makeup. (my future SIL gave me a honkin’ big Revlon makeup kit for my 17th birthday. i remember her words well: even the prettiest girls need help now and then.) i could care less about handbags. and shoes? BC will berate me — most of my shoes are black, the better to go with most of my wardrobe. mama, she chides me, you really need to break out of the black and into colors.

so today, as it’s half-day wednesday, we decided to paint our toenails. mine are a deep-red-wine color, and hers, not surprisingly, are bright fuschia, with a layer of clear sparkles on top to boot. hers got a little messed up, so we’ll probably try again tomorrow. i just can’t bear to inhale the nail polish remover and the nail polish odors much more. with all the tests and scans i have had of late, i probably will spontaneously combust if i’m not too careful.

but you know what? it was actually fun sitting there and watching the proverbial paint dry. i can’t say we solved any of the world’s problems during that time, but it was a weird little feminine ritual that i think will bond us, ever so slightly more than we already are. and i’ve got me some kick-ass looking nails.

maybe tomorrow, we’ll hit the mall and look into eye makeup…

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5 Responses to “attack of the girly-girls”

  1. hah! love it. next time i’m in town, we’ll do a makeup party! it always works out that way – the sporty moms get girly girls and the girl girls end up with sporty boys. i’ll prob end up with a boy who likes to ride dirt bikes and refuses baths.

  2. and i’ll buy him his first baseball glove 🙂

  3. nylonthread Says:

    Oh, oh! Rosie would love to paint nails with Kira! Usually, I let her Auntie take care of some of the girlier stuff.

    And go figure, it’s Jools who likes to hang with the kitchen stuff, too, right?

  4. […] i am right handed. i bat lefty. this is due to some tomfoolery, courtesy of my two older brothers. (thanks a lot, guys.) 2) i like to wear black. a lot. BC always […]

  5. That would so totally be my karma too, if I had a girl. Poor thing would be in therapy wondering why I couldn’t deal that she became a stylist or something. “It was all those Disney Princess dresses she never bought me! Waaaaaah!”

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