Once I’d finished cleaning the toys out of the tub after Little Bee’s bath last night, I headed for her room where she and my husband were winding down before putting her to bed.
I knocked on the door from the outside. Giggles exploded from low on the inside; she knocked back.
After repeating the you-knock-I-knock game a few times I slowly opened the door and looked down at her glowing face, her 3.5 teeth grinning madly back at me, hair wild and in her eyes.
Then I noticed it: she was wearing those pajamas: the red and orange striped ones that have been hanging in her closet for months. The pajamas for a 12-18 month old. The ones that we’ve been saying since we got them, “she’ll never fit in these.”
I looked at my husband, who smiled at the shock on my face. “She’s wearing them,” I whispered. “Yup,” he beamed.
And just like that, folks, we have a Big Girl.