I have been told that I am “beautiful” for a while. I knew what pretty was, but “beautiful”… well, I could not really understand that one. I responded every single time for a while, “I’m not beautiful, I Dorian.” My Mama and Daddy laughed at me, but I was serious. I know who I am… I AM DORIAN.
The other day, though, my sister Adalyn took me upstairs to her room, and she put me in some of her dress clothes that she is too big for now. I tried on dress after dress, and Adalyn called down to my Mama and told her that she couldn’t come up to see what we were doing. Mama usually won’t listen to that one because it can mean trouble, but this time she waited for the surprise.
Then we tried it… the most fancy white dress that looked like a princess dress. It was a teeny bit big on me, but it was just the right one. Adalyn smoothed out my hair and brushed it, and then she put on the finishing touch, blue clip-on earrings that made me just like the princesses that I watch. I felt so very pretty.
When I walked down those stairs, just like a princess would in my fancy shoes and earrings and dress, I felt different. I felt so very grown up and big, but I did not know the word for how I felt.
Then Adalyn said it. She said, “Look Mama, doesn’t Dorian look so beautiful?” My Mama said, “Oh Dorian, you are so very beautiful. You look like a princess.” For the first time, I did not argue back. I knew what it meant, and I was… I was beautiful, just like the flowers outside and the stars in the sky. Beautiful is how you feel. Beautiful is flowers and trees and sunshine and mountains and water. Beautiful is me. I am Dorian, and I am beautiful.
My Mama tells me that I “clean up really well.” I don’t really know what that means yet, but Mama tells me that I will understand one day when I am bigger. All that I know is that sometimes I just want to put on a fancy party dress and I want to have cheerleader pom poms to jump up and down and yell and run through the house. I already know all about fancy, and fancy is what you want for it to be. A cheerleader princess? That can be a great definition of fancy. Fancy is a state of mind, and I am one of the fanciest that has ever been.
Today we got a package from Amazon on our back door, and when we had opened it up and taken the stuff out of it tonight, I got to play in it and climb in and out and in and out. Mama said I was just like a cat, and I have seen our kitty get into and out of boxes, so I guess I am kind of like our little kitty.
Daddy decided to make it even more fun, though… he made a hole on one side, put a carabiner through it, and connected a rope to that so that it was just like a brown box wagon. I got to say “weeeeeeee” while Mama and Daddy pulled me around in circles in our house over and over all the way until bedtime.
Fun stuff doesn’t have to be fancy. It can be a brown box– just so long as you look at it in the right kind of light.
“From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.” — Dr. Seuss