She’s No Angel

Oh, she looks like an angel.

Don’t let that halo fool you.

She has a temper.

Right after the photo was taken, the Hubs asked her if she wanted to go outside to play a little footie with him and her brother. I told her that she had to change out of her Christmas play costume, as I wasn’t having it ruined before the school play.

Famous. Last. Words.

She groused, but conceded. Upstairs, she asked her brother to help her get the dress off; he said no. Understandable, from a 7 year old, but sobs ensued, so I called up asking if she wanted ME to help. “NO” she bellowed, slamming her door.

The ruckus escalated.

The door slams open and she stomped part-way down the stairs, wailing “it ripped when I tooked it off.” One SLEEVE is nearly completely detached from the dress.

I saw RED. I may have yelled a few things about irresponsibility, taking care of your things and (ironically) controlling your temper. I demanded that she give me the rest of her costume – the halo and wings – which I threw on the guest room bed, then snatched the offending garment from her hands, and stomped downstairs.

*I don’t know where she gets it from.*

It was not my proudest moment. I realize it likely was an accident, and yes, accidents happen, but I’m pretty sure it was in part due to impatience related to her tantrum, it had been a long day of tantrums, and this was the final straw.

I grabbed my sewing kit and sat down. Took a deep breath. Threaded a needle.

If you knew me well, you’d know that I sew as well as I iron. Which means, I don’t.

There was a desperate attempt to reconnect the sleeve, but as it was made of a chiffon-like polyester which was now shredded, it was like sewing a spider web to air.  I contemplated simply ripping both sleeves off – no one would know – but dammit, it was supposed to have sleeves. I knew it should have sleeves. It was irrational. I was mad. The price tags had been off for THREE hours.

One sleeve ended up shorter than the other, but it was attached.

It was not my best work.

I didn’t care. She’s gonna wear it that way. Ironically, she won’t care. And no one will notice.

And when you see my sweet little darling on stage,  her beatific smile, hear her angelic off-key singing, *don’t look at the sleeves don’t look at the sleeves* well, that’s her, too…my angel.


She isn’t always an angel. And neither am I.

* * * * *

And onward…now that that is over….

My weekend update in my 30 days of Giving Thanks….

Day 12 of Giving Thanks: I’m thankful for WONDERFUL babysitters, so that I can leave my kids with confidence that they will be well taken care of while I’m out.  Babysitters were a premium back in Barrington, to be sure, as you had to compete with poms/dance squad/cheerleading/ballet/volleyball/boyfriends, but here they seem to be at an even greater premium, so to find THREE fantastic girls is amazing, and I’m greatful. Especially after a day of swearing sewing and tantrums. So thank you, girls.

And no, I’m not sharing names…


Day 13 of Giving Thanks: I’m thankful for date night. As much as I love my children (I do!) it’s a blessing to have a night with the Hubs to reconnect. And to have a break from cooking, washing up, and the like. Even if we do talk about the kids.

Have a great week!


Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: