Yesterday, I wore my black, high-heeled Mary Janes to school, because I was dressed up for the holiday. As I came down the steps with a pile of papers, Mr. Richards’s kindergarten class was lined up at the bottom. Tiny, black-haired, golden-skinned, beautiful Joey spotted my footwear.
“Hey!” she trilled, “We have the same shoes on!” She showed me her patent-leather Mary Janes with sparkly snowflakes on the side.
“Oh Joey,” I said, “You’re always so stylish!”
“Well,” she replied matter of factly, “Wherever I go, people just stop and look at me!”
I laughed loudly. “It must be because you’re so stylish!” I said.
“No silly,” she replied, shaking her head fondly as if I were really too stupid for words, but she loved me anyway, “it’s because I’m soooooooooo pretty!” She spread her tiny, red velveted arms to indicate how pretty she really is.
“Joey, you did not just say that, girlfriend!” cried Mr. Richards.
I dissolved with laughter and she beamed. And of course, she’s right – she’s prettier than even my arms can indicate, and absolutely born to be adored.
“Hey!” she trilled, “We have the same shoes on!” She showed me her patent-leather Mary Janes with sparkly snowflakes on the side.
“Oh Joey,” I said, “You’re always so stylish!”
“Well,” she replied matter of factly, “Wherever I go, people just stop and look at me!”
I laughed loudly. “It must be because you’re so stylish!” I said.
“No silly,” she replied, shaking her head fondly as if I were really too stupid for words, but she loved me anyway, “it’s because I’m soooooooooo pretty!” She spread her tiny, red velveted arms to indicate how pretty she really is.
“Joey, you did not just say that, girlfriend!” cried Mr. Richards.
I dissolved with laughter and she beamed. And of course, she’s right – she’s prettier than even my arms can indicate, and absolutely born to be adored.
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