A few days ago I was in the bathroom getting ready to go to church and as I was applying one last coat of mascara to my eyelashes I heard footsteps approaching and I glanced down. There was Emma struting her way into the bathroom in an outfit that she had picked herself. It was a lovely rainbow colored skirt paired with a beautifully patterned plum colored Princess Tiana shirt. To top it all off she had "done" her own hair and make up. She had soaking wet hair pushed back away from her face with a pale yellow headband and the brightest peacock blue eyeshadow smeared across one eye that I've ever seen. This of course was not to be out done by the silver streak that ran across her opposite eyelid.
As I stared at my proud, posing 4 year old I did the only thing I really could do, I smiled.
"Mom," she said as she did a half turn to show off her back side. "Do you like my makeup? Doesn't it look beautiful?"
"Oh, yes Emma it is 'beautiful'," I said with what I felt was only a hint of the sarcasim that was really bubbling through my head.
I went back to doing my makeup with a silly smile plastered on my face (and only letting slip a giggle or two), and Emma just stared at me.
"You know mom, it really hurts my feelings when people tell me my make up looks pretty and then they turn around and laugh at me."