b’day musings

Back in the olden days I knew this girl.
Wal-Mart was the ultimate cuss word in her universe. She swore the blue and white vests, yellow smiley faces and black and white LOWER PRICES markers were signs of the anti-Christ. She wondered if I was going to hell for shopping there and even asked her youth minister for prayer once when she knew I was picking up groceries that day.
She cried if I served hamburgers and asked about the “poor cows.”
She walked by Abercrombie and said something about clones.
She asked if she could dye her hair pink and swore boys were evil spawns of Satan.
When I watched Laguna Beach, she yawned and asked what was playing on CNBC.
And then….
she grew up.
She still equates Wal-Mart with the anti-Christ.
But that’s it.
She’s marched to the beat of a different drummer and been proud of it for so long, it scares me to see that changing.
But she’s my daughter and I’ll love her in Hollister or Goodwill. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m not real sure she gets that. Sometimes I see her looking at me with this worried little frown and when I ask her what’s up the frown disappears and she says nothing and goes into her room to text her boyfriend.
Wasn’t too long ago she told me everything, even things I didn’t want to know.
I don’t know how or when it happened, but she’s not my baby girl. She’s her own person.
And while I’m thankful burgers are no longer served with a side of tears, I’m also sad that the little kid days are over.

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