Cinderella
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See my poor Dotter? Down on her hands and knees, scrubbing the deck with soapy water and a scrubby, in her purple ball gown? I made her do it. I am standing behind the camera, cracking a whip and cackling an evil laugh. This is why we adopted! So we could have a waif scrubbing our floors for us!
Well, not really. We have a table on the deck. We wanted to eat out on the deck today. The table was grody. I had rinsed, and soaped, and rinsed again. The Dotter, of course, wanted to help. Finally, I had had enough help, and told her if she wanted to scrub stuff, she could take the bucket over the by stairs and scrub the deck.
Which she did. !!!
(You can see why I am dying for a new deck.)
Above is the new hair, highlights, small amounts of grey left, and all. The wind was blowing, so The Do is askew. This a.m., I handed the camera to OmegaDad just before the dotter and I headed out to the pool (for the first time this year, yay!), and informed him he was to take my photo. The Dotter, of course, wanted to “help”, which meant sitting in my lap and squinting into the sun with me.
Just moments ago, the strains of Papagena’s aria from The Magic Flute emerged from the bathroom–fairly well performed, by the way. Where does the dotter get these things? This one comes from…wait for it…a Barbie movie. My loathing for the concept of Barbie aside, I have to say that the Barbie movies are oh-kay in my books. A smattering of classical favorites, an emphasis on girls being able to solve their problems themselves. Not great cinema, but oh-kay.
