I was in the middle of doing work emails at my kitchen table when my six-year-old daughter approached me.
“Mommy, would you like to come play with me over at my doll house?”
She had her hands held behind her back and tilted her head to the side as if she had been practicing the presentation of her lines in the other room… just HOPING my answer would be the one she was seeking.
Typically, I would tell her to “hold on a second” while I finished what I was doing, but there was something extra endearing in the way she “invited me” into her world that got me to shift out of autopilot, leave my email half written … and grab her hand.
We skipped our way into the other room where she had already laid out her dolls and set up the props in the 4-foot-tall doll house in anticipation of my arrival. She informed me that the house was actually a hospital and we were going to pretend a mommy was coming to have her baby.
At six, she still hasn’t asked me how babies are born… and I was waiting for it.
Instead, she just showed me how she believed the baby magically came out of the mommy’s belly and landed into the doctor’s arms.
I rolled with that… I could save that conversation for another day.
Today was about something else.
