When I mentioned that she was still wearing her pajamas and it was 4 o’clock, she cried.
“Why are you crying?” I asked
“Because I missed the whole day.”
“You didn’t miss the day, you just spent the day in pajamas (and high heels, I thought, but didn’t mention, as it didn’t seem to be the time)”
She was distracted, at last, by the arrival of the mail, and with it, the american girl catalog that showed her all the wonders of the girl of the year.
Soon, that, too was discarded into the feral cave that once was our living room.
The tree is still up, dripping with ornaments. It’s too small for our ornament collection and yet, there’s something about the assault of glitter that works. The stockings are still hung. Mary coos patiently over baby Jesus in the creche. Maybe we’ll take it down soon. Maybe we won’t.
The coffee table is askew. She pulled it out of the way in order to do some dancing with the wii game. It’s overflowing with snacks, both real and plastic. The plastic snacks have been dutifully fed to her babydoll and AG doll. This is the first we’ve seen of the babydoll in months, but somehow today, in the snow, she needed to be fed, needed to be brought out of the wooden cradle where she has languished recently.
Three second grade novels are splayed on various surfaces. She has this habit of reading from multiple books at once. Drives me crazy.
Under the Christmas tree two pairs of boots and my slippers are neatly aligned. Apparently Santa specialized in used footwear this year.
Besides the pajamas, she is wearing her cousin’s handmedown character shoes (at least 4 sizes too big but they have heels and must be worn) Christmas socks and 11 rainbow loom creations: rings, and bracelets. A stack of colored pencils cluster on top of paper where something has been drawn.
The TV has been on almost all day, while she drew, and crafted and read and tended to the needs of her baby, her AG doll, her tummy.
She is now curled up on the floor. She has taken two afghans and clipped them together with large flowered hair clips. She has crawled between them, and drug both dolls with her. She watches the Wild Kratts, makes a bracelet and languidly looks up at me on the sofa, where books and computer have entertained me all day. Crumbs and game pieces have settled between the cushions.
She is still in pajamas but we’ve hardly missed the day.