Saturday, January 1, 2011


Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at the pale blue paint. I'd spent two months searching for a store that still could mix the color. Excitedly, I ordered three gallons of it. I had to make sure I had enough. The color was discontinued and it was unlikely I would be able to get more. It was worth the effort and wait. I fell completely in love with it even before it dried.

But now it was marred. Marred in a way that was beautiful in itself which left me in turmoil. Staring back at me, a bright red crooked smile on her face, was the image of my oldest daughter the way she saw herself. Mocha Brown pony tails stuck out both sides of her head. She wore a pink suit with rainbow striped tights. Her legs were as big as an elephants. I stood next to her. My hair was long and straight, the same Mocha Brown. I wore blue jeans and the sweater she had picked out for me for Christmas. My husband, her father stood next to me. She was holding her baby sister's hand. The baby's blonde hair stuck out wildly in every direction and just above the ovals that were her feet, a blanket was wrapped around her body up to her neck.

To the left was a tall white house with three windows, a door, and a Brick Red roof. On the other side was a swing set. Tufts of grass poked up anywhere a more permanent structure or people weren't positioned. The sky was a deep blue with bumpy white circles and black birds that looked more like lower case m's and a bright yellow sun that smiled down on the scene. Above each of our heads, in shaky Sunset Orange letters, our names were written: Me, Mom, Dad, and Baby.

I looked down at the known 'Me'. "Did you do this?" I asked her, pride and anger making my voice sound higher than usual.

"No mommy. I didn't do it," she responded, her ponytails swinging rapidly from side to side as she shook her head vehemently in denial.

"This isn't your hand writing?" I looked at her seriously. Mother's have a way of eliciting the truth with their eyes.

"No mommy, not me," she said looking directly into my eyes.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***

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