April 21, 2010
Last week, it finally hit 70 degrees in Philadelphia. As if on cue, my seven-year-old daughter unpacked her snow boots.
The week after Christmas, I bought Camber a pair of furry Eskimo boots. She loved them long enough to rip off all the tags, and then flatly refused to have anything to do with them...until now.
"Can you turn the air conditioning on?" she asked me earlier this week. "I'm kind of hot."
When I suggested that she take off the boots, she went upstairs and exchanged her jeans for a pair of shorts. The boots stayed.
"It's really not snow boot weather anymore," I tried again the next day. I pointed out that everyone else in the family was wearing flip flops.
The following morning she came down to breakfast wearing her Easter dress and the boots.
Since then, I have kept my opinions to myself.
My neighbor told me not to worry. "She'll sweat out of those boots sooner or later," she predicted.
I don't know if I can wait that long. The urge to rip them off her feet is growing stronger by the minute.