AN ALL- AMERICAN GIRL

She's here, she's there, she's everywhere. She loves her doll, she loves to talk. When she talks words come out so fast, so garbled, and at such a pitch that her Grammy is constantly saying, "Slow down, and say it again. I cannot understand you." She rolls her eyes, takes a deep breath, and repeats slower, and sometimes so deliberately slow that it's annoying. She's sassing me. But she smiles, so I forgive. She loves pretty dresses. She loves jewelry. She loves to play with her "American Girl" doll, but she needs more clothes. So does Lelia. More clothes, more hats, more shoes, more yellow.

"Lelia," I ventured carefully one day. "You know, I don't think yellow is a good color for you. You really don't have the coloring to wear it. Turquoise is a great color for you." "I don't care," she stated pleasantly, and that was the end of that.

We visited a store in the mall one morning that was perfect for ten year old girls who enjoy being girls. Perfect for Lelia. We looked at colorful and cute outfits. "Look at this, Lelia!" It was purple. She began to wrinkle her nose, then grabbed one just like it at the other end of the rack. The bright yellow one. "I like this better." Of course she did. We ended up with a cute white billed cap with a huge "L" printed on it in silver sequins. At least it wasn't yellow. An old memory popped into my head of being in a mall and showing my daughter all the pretty dresses and frilly tops like Lelia loved. Jill turned up her nose and flatly refused. You just can't win in this world with daughters and granddaughters.

Grammys are much too old to understand this whirlwind. Her mother understands her, I believe, but she was never like her. Her mother was a tomboy, and she played with the boys with their cars and their bikes. But Lelia is blessed to have a mom who takes her as she is, and has no desire to make her anything other than that.

Lelia may be misguided in her choice of yellow (strictly my opinion, but her mother concurs), but most of her other choices are well-thought out and very wise. She dislikes many of the modern celebrities and music/musicians that are so popular with many girls her age. She loves Julie Andrews and the Sound of Music, and she's disgusted with me when I say I don't. She's what I would consider conservative with a flair of glitz. She's fun and silly and delightful, but when she doesn't get her way she's moody and pouty and difficult. But, hey, she's a girl.

The kids and I were in the car one afternoon, and the boys were discussing the difficulty of dealing with a moody sister. I told them, "If you think she's moody now, just wait a few years. When she's fifteen or sixteen you'll probably feel like sending her on a mission to the moon." They don't get it yet, but they will. Oh, my, they sure will. And I hope I get to be around to watch.