I had Bean (five year-old granddaughter's nickname) here for a sleepover last night. We ate ice cream and colored and did lace-up cards. This morning she wanted to dress herself and since I am a disaster on the clothes front, I said knock yourself out.
A little later after she joined me in my bedroom, I noticed that there were sparkling reflections on the walls--like I had a big old disco ball hanging from my ceiling inviting me to put on my big hair and my Joan Collins earrings and GET DOWN TONIGHT!
Where were the sparkles coming from, I wondered. And then I looked at Bean. She had sparkles on her hair bows and sparkles on her shirt and when she twirled around it was Sparkle-Rama time at chez Cannon. and lo I did reflect unto myself that in all those years I was raising boys, there were never any sparkles on my wall.