Not A Far Cry

School shopping has bought me face to face with an inevitable part of womanhood. That being, my little girls won't be little girls forever. Sometimes it seems like changes occur overnight. Voice changes, moodiness, height, curves and such... I don't get it! What happened? When did it happen? Did I millisecond blink? No more cami/tanks for my pre-teen "big girl". I'm looking for a 30A, as instucted by the young female sales associate who recently conducted her first fitting. It was like some sacred passage, a right to womanhood, the need (not the want as so many little girls experience the phase) but the 'need' [I reiterate] to wear a BRA. Today has been a crisp reminder that little girls grow up to be women! 30 A..? That's not a far cry from my 36 B. Then it really hits me. Already standing my height, eye to eye... She's still got that sweet cherub/china doll face, but as seasons change this does too... only remnants remain of that beloved 'baby fat'. Her fist pimple was discovered with much ad nauseum... "Mama, what is it? It hurts!" my youngest daughter interjects "You need some proactive." No, I need to freeze this moment in my mind because I know it won't be long before the face staring back at me is much like my own.


Katandra Shanel Jackson Taylor ©FreedomInk 2011
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