Saturday, August 11, 2007

She's come undone.

Six-year-old Emily, my mom, and I, in the car.
E: Why does Cami get to pick everything we do?
M: Because she's the guest while she's here.
C: And because I'm a princess.
E: You can't be a princess; you're 30.
C: Oh yeah? So what am I instead--the wicked stepmother? The evil witch?
E: No; you're the donkey.

***
Emily and I, in the jacuzzi.
C: What did you do when Grandpa watched you while Grandma and your mom were out of town?
E: [conspiratorially] We threw a party for 100 of our closest friends.

***
Emily and I, while I painted red polka dots on her nails.
E: Have you ever done this as a job?
C: No, but I've painted my nails before plenty of times.
E: You should work in a salon. Maybe boys would come in and buy gifts for people, and you could get a boyfriend. And then you could get married. And have a baby. Don't you want a baby?
C: ....
E: Well, you should work in a salon.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

See you should be writing Emily for relationship advice on a regular basis.

Does this mean I have gone from handsome prince to donkey once I turned 30? :(

amanda said...

ohmygod how i love emily stories. i think you should bring a video camera for your every interaction with her until she's at least 20.