Learning to Fly

Lydia's friend, Carly, came to play last night. She came wearing angel wings, which Lydia insisted on borrowing for the evening. Since Carly is only two, she happily obliged. When Carly left, however, she wanted to take her angel wings with her. Lydia then told me she wanted her own pair of wings.

This morning, Lydia still remembered she wanted wings and she reminded me of that fact. I said, "O.K., Lydia, I'll get you some wings if you get your chores done." "O.K., Mommy, I will!" she said with conviction.

I then ran to WalMart to get some groceries. I saw a pair of wings there. They were pink and purple and sparkly all over. Why they didn't have Lydia's name written on them I don't know. I bought them. When I got home, Lydia dragged me into the family room to show me how well she had picked up. She had put dirty socks under one chair, granola bar wrappers under another chair and Paul's cars under the couch. After I helped her redo her job properly I gave her the wings.

"Oh," she sighed, "Thank you, Mommy!" I put the wings on her and she walked off to her bedroom, proud as a peacock.

She then told Grace, "I could fly all day!"
Grace said, "You can't fly with those, Lydia."
"You mean they're not real?" Lydia asked.