I was looking for Mariah Carey’s Christmas album on our AppleTV the other day, and Mary Virginia looked at the display of the album covers and asked, “Mommy, is that a picture of you?”
Oh, my darling little sugar plum. Moments like this almost make up for last night when you smeared potatoes in the blinds.
I smiled at her and looked into her sweet, trusting eyes and answered, “Yes, sweet heart. That’s a picture of Mommy.”
Ever since then I’ve been dreaming of a day years from now when perhaps the mother of one of Mary Virginia’s friends is driving her home after ballet class or horseback riding lessons. And when “Always be my Baby” comes on the radio, she’ll pipe up and say, “This is my Mommy singing!”
Our entire society lies to children about who brings them gifts on Christmas morning, I don’t see how this is any different.
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