After the all male deliveries in my husband family, and our own beautiful little boy, we had managed to brake with tradition and got two baby girls. By the time the first one was in nursery school her brother was dropped off at the big kids school around 8:15 am, while the nursery school’s doors didn’t open until 8:45. We usually spent that lass of time with a special cookie at the bakery and chatting between us girls in the car parked near the nursery school entrance. Once, while waiting in the car my darling May girl declared, “Mommy you have lines on your face!” REALLY?! I was in my mid thirties and until then had never bothered checking my face for lines. My darling daughter must have noticed the shock in my expression because she sweetly added, “Don’t worry mommy, you don’t have as many as grandmother!” PFEW!
Then, while both her older siblings were in the big kids school, it was our third child’s turn to wait in the car with mommy until the nursery school’s doors opened. We were looking at our faces on the rearview mirror once, and I was pointing to her the similarities between the two of us, “The same eyes, the same nose…” “But, mommy, not the same skin!” WHAT?! “Why?” I asked her. “Because you have poke dots on your face!”
In a family of repeatedly just boys I had desired to also have girls. What is it that they say? “Careful what you wish for!” Or, like we say in Italy, “You did want that bicycle, now pedal!“