We went to Marshalls as the stylish yet thrifty are wont to do and picked a few play clothes / daily wear pieces, as LoLeece is long overdue for some properly fitting clothes.
As I perused the pedal pushers and matching tees, she found a purple dress, a Hannah Montanna number-hidden on a rack. It was the only one in the store. It just happened to be her size. My reflex reaction would be to object immediately-- not only did she not need a dress, ( I had just bought a few dressy outfits a few weeks earlier) it really didn't seem like a church dress-- I couldn't imagine many opportunities to don this grape-a-licious drape. But she loved it, it was written all over her expression and the way she held the dress up to her.
Many years ago, -many, many years... I had a purple dress too. It was gauzy and tiered, purple and bedecked in butterflies. It was my favorite dress of all. I remember the sad day it ripped and waiting anxiously to see if it could be repaired :(
So, feeling nostaligic, I relinquished control a little and let her get the dress. (We already have very different opinions about style, fashion and acceptable wardrobe)
She thanked me profusely for letting her pick her own clothes (and would continue to do so intermittently throughout the night) then happily proceeded to pick a silver sequined bag and matching silver, spangly sandals to complete her ensemble.
Fast forward to about 7:30 Sunday morning:
::Tap Tap Tap::
I roll over to see who has dared to enter my sleeping chamber and wake me from my slumber at this early hour.
"Aren't we going to church this morning?!"
It was my purple clad Logan, dressed to the nines and ready to roll...
*BONUS- Poem about wearing purple when we're old ladies- and my excuse for living a little in the here and now.