Not who you would think; in the title I am referring to none other than my offspring of the female variety, yes sir - my daughter.
She eschews her fascinators and embraces the tousled locks over her eyes with brazen regularity. I keep telling her the gentleman folk will not be pleased with her unkempt appearance, though she does not seem to mind in the slightest.
Though this weekend boasted of sunshine and was rather appealing, we had commitments on both days that precluded us from enjoying it. As Cutter proclaims, “I love the sun, Mommy!” and so we were finally able to get out and enjoy that glorious sunshine yesterday. Scout and Cutter alike were in heaven running around, uninhibited, discovering and exploring what had changed over the winter.
Cutter discovered the ‘'blue flowers'’ which I corrected as purple and Mimi instructed as a crocus. It takes a village, people.
Shortly after, we continued our walk and Miss Wild Child strolled a little too confidently down the ramp off of our deck and fell face first into the cement transition. Though it didn’t slow her down, it did garner her a fat lip and so moved our afternoon stroll indoors as we cleaned her up. Sad face.
I love this girl to pieces but she is a handful. On the regular she throws herself off of chairs, headfirst into the hardwood floor; I’m convinced her head is made of steel. I would even claim that she is wilder than my first, and I thought that was impossible.
I am yet again thankful for medical insurance (for my peace of mind) and for not having to actually use it!
On our walk...
After getting her fat lip...
Proof positive of The Wild Child herself...
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