The Purple Child
Here is a story that can be told in two ways. The first being from the child’s perspective, and the second being from my own. I shall first start with her view of the situation.
“Wow I cannot wait to buy this shirt for school! I shall hand it to this lady! She has nice hair! I bought a purple blanket to match my lips which have white sparkles on them like my purple eye shadow. I wonder if this lady knows her eye shadow is brown. That is not a fun color. I should let her feel my blanket! Wow she likes it! We should play sometime! I shall give her my number and then we can have a sleepover and play Barbie’s! What if she doesn’t like Barbie’s?! Okay we can do whatever she wants. I just want her to braid my hair. She looks like Elsa! No… more like Belle…. Does she like ice cream? Maybe we can have ice cream! I wish I remembered the phone number. Why do we have to leave this nice lady? I want to play! That is okay though because she will call me and we can have a sleepover! BYE!!!!”
Then, from my perspective:
“Oh! Is this a new polo for school?” I ask.
“Look I have a purple fuzzy blanket! It matches my lipstgloss that has white on it and my eyes. I am five how old are you?” she rambles.
“How old do you think I am?”
“Like forty?” I laugh in response but before I can answer she says, “I think you should come over and play! We can have a sleepover. Dad give her the phone number so she can call. It is four zoe two, sevent oh nine five right daddy? Oh and we can play Barbie’s or watch a movie! What ever you want really! I just want to play! Your eyes are brown!” (my eyes are green by my makeup is brown) “You look like ELs-BELLE! You read I bet. We can read at the sleepover!”
As she rambles on I listen and respond. I give her my fake phone number and as she leaves she says, “See you soon!” and she tumbles out the door, giddy for the sleepover that will never come.
bled