I'm Gonna Win

Anyone with a 3 year old knows that sometimes it's a challenge to get out the door in the morning.  My 3 year old is no different.  She's a firecracker most of the time but the 100 feet or so from the car to the front door of "play group" take ridiculously long to cover.  So, I've developed a little game we play to move things along.  I did it with the other two when they were in daycare and it generally works. As I'm unbuckling her from the car, I confidently assert that I'm going to win.  "No!" she says.  "I'm gonna win!"  She hops down from the car and sprints to the front door, all the while, we both are declaring ourselves to be the eventual winner. 

She always wins.  Always.  But of course, I win too because we make it to the door without tears or me having to carry her.  There's nothing monumental about this game.  It's fun, it works, we're happy. 

Now, I've made no secret about my shoes.  I married a tall man.  The only flat shoes I own are for running.  Every shoe has a heel.  Some are 2 inches, some are 6 with a platform.  I love my shoes.  I wear them without shame and yes, sometimes I fall.  One day last week, I was wearing a gorgeous pair of Jessica Simpson 4-inch pumps that perfectly matched my purple top.  They're BEAUTIFUL and yes, I wear them all day.  That  morning, as I assured my little girl of my impending victory, she looked at me, hopped down from the car and said "I'm gonna win.  You can't run in those shoes."  And she was right.  I didn't even fake trying that day--I was too busy laughing.

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