Tonight, as I watched the baby cracking up at my mother-in-law, as they played with her favorite dolly,
(which was, by the way, an amazingly precious sight),
I noticed that my daughter had glitter on her head.
How in the world did she get such a sparkly keppie?
My mind raced.
Well, I did take a nap today. Did I miss something while I was asleep?
Did she fly to an enchanted garden with the fairies?
Did she dance on stage at Studio 53 1/2?
Did she find my 10 year old stash of body glitter?
What am I thinking?
This is ridiculous.
I never had a stash of body glitter.
Last night, it was fried chicken in the bellybutton,
tonight, it’s glitter on the head.
What is next?
Don’t answer that.
Yet another mystery of parenthood,
filed away next to linea negra and cradle cap.
And, for once,
most magically of all,
I was able to let the mystery go,
and just enjoy,
as I watched the baby and her Mommom,
laughing together,
their smiles shining more brightly than flecks of pink glitter,
anyway.