It was going to be Grace’s Big Night.
Granddaughter, Brookelyn, is finishing off my clean living room. She wanted to be a Princess, too, but, this little Princess needs a Maid-in-Waiting! In her quest for beauty, she scattered bobby pins, brushes and combs around the living room. She did try to help put all the hot rollers back in the container. She would grasp one in her chubby hands, run over to the container in that sideways bobbing motion only toddlers have mastered, then try to shove it on the little pegs. While Brookie amused herself and messed up my living room, Grace stood up and went to finish her beauty routine.
A princessy work of art! We were enjoying Beth’s awesome transformation of our daughter (how should I describe her?) into a glamorous young lady. We were stunned. But not for long.
She was at the kitchen sink, giggling in her flustered way, while scrubbing on her beautiful red dress with a green washcloth.
“What happened?” I asked. I only had been gone a few minutes. Just a few, short, minutes. Not even a New York minute.
“Well… I had put cover-up in the palm of my hand in case I needed more. Then, Bethany needed to fix my hair. While I was sitting there, well… I just forgot it was there. I stood up and was smoothing my skirt down and ….well…I got makeup all over my dress.”
Sure enough. Flesh colored makeup was spotted down the front of the sheer overlay to her dress. I began running the water as hot as it would go, found a white rag, and began treating the spots. Water didn’t work. Soap and water didn’t work. Baking soda didn’t work. This stubborn cover-up was determined to do its job. It was covering up her Princess dress.
“Makeup remover!” I shouted as I dashed down the hallway to my bedroom for the oil-less makeup remover and cotton balls.
She also had That Look on her face. The Amazing Grace Look. She lifted her skirt and said, “Look, Mom, I forgot to take my running shorts off and put on my slip!”
Happy with the gorgeous pictures of my Amazing Grace, we were finally ready to leave. I was emotional and almost weepy in the memory-making rite of passage. I was trying to think of something tender and encouraging to say to my daughter to solidify this bonding moment in our hearts forever. But, as I walked by her side of the Jeep, I had to settle for, “GRACE! Your dress is shut in the door!”