Some days I’m really happy Morgan still has her emotional outbursts. It’s the “fall on the floor and cry like there is no tomorrow for no reason” outbursts that remind me she is still three. She’s my little girl. My sweetheart. My preschooler. Oh gosh, I only have one preschooler left. Oh my.
On the mature end of things she’s precocious, questioning, tall, articulate, and she keeps up with the five-year olds. It’s so hard sometimes to remember she’s only a preschooler.
There are some days her actions completely surprise me. The other day took the cake. A 16-year-old boy working at Target passed us, leaving her completely doe-eyed with a soft smile on her face. Really? He was 16!!!
Afterward we were driving on Broadway, and some big burly bikers pulled up alongside us. Morgan rolled down her window, gave them a soft wave, and smiled while saying “Hi boys” in the sweetest voice she could muster. The problem? She looked so grown up and wise when she did it! She knew she was going to hit a soft spot with those burly bikers!
If 3 1/2 is going on 13, I can’t imagine what 13 is actually going to be like. We are in for some trouble!