No offense meant here, but sometimes I wonder if God was momentarily confused when handing out DNA. You see, I think I got my sister's child. Sometimes I'm worried that my first born accidentally went to the wrong girl. Now, don't get me wrong, I'll take her. I wouldn't give her up (even to my sister) if my life depended on it, but I look at the stuff she does and it reminds me of growing up with my sister all over again.
What makes me think this?
Exhibit A:
She's obsessed with shoes (the sparklier the better), hair bows (the sparklier the better), dresses (the sparklier the better) and all things pink (yup, you guessed it, the sparklier the better.)
The following picture was taken this morning and can be seen most mornings on the floor of the kids bedroom. (My mother has some eerily similar photos from Sarah Ellen's bedroom years ago...)
Exhibit B:
What makes me think this?
Exhibit A:
She's obsessed with shoes (the sparklier the better), hair bows (the sparklier the better), dresses (the sparklier the better) and all things pink (yup, you guessed it, the sparklier the better.)
The following picture was taken this morning and can be seen most mornings on the floor of the kids bedroom. (My mother has some eerily similar photos from Sarah Ellen's bedroom years ago...)
Exhibit B:
In case you missed it the first time, please note the attention to detail. The beautiful necklace from Auntie Whitney and the watch from Christmas. For me, picking out an outfit means wondering if my jeans have been washed any time in the last week. And if they haven't been, scraping off dry crusties from the kids and putting them back on for "one" more day.
Exhibit C:
Exhibit C:
As different as we are, I am so blessed to call this little diva mine.
PS - Aunt Sarah Ellen, since she has your DNA, we'll be calling you for help in about 8 years. Get ready.
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