It is unfortunate that my daughter will probably grow-up saying that her mother hated Mexican traditions and did not love her enough to buy her a pinata; however, these are misconceptions that no amount of salsa and burritos can fix.
Next year I will most certainly purchase a pinata because once my daughter reaches adulthood, I know she won’t allow me to attend her therapeutic talk sessions and defend myself. It is my maternal goal to be forever remembered as the mother who not only loved salsa & chips, but could also do the Mexican hat dance. Well maybe not so much the hat dance as the chips, but you get the point.
Despite the lack of raining candy, we managed to have a festive birthday for FringeKid. The day was bittersweet for me. With a quick shoot in each ear, my baby had gone from pure cuteness to a bedazzled sparkler. It’s similar to the transformation of a denim jacket that has suddenly been studded with rhinestones.
I’m not sure what comes next, but I have no more babies. What I do have are ceiling and doorways filled with streamers and balloons. I’m taking solace in the fact that they could be filled with spiders and webs and I’d much rather pink paper and expanded rubber.