"Really?" I asked. "Why?"
"Because I like them. And I want them."
Armando and I had decided that we would have Anika's ears pierced when she was ready, guessing that would be about age 5. Lots of people get their girls' ears pierced right out of the gate, but we were horrified at the idea of putting holes in our baby's perfect ears for vanity's sake, and I worried about them getting caught on things or getting infected. So we waited, never mentioning earrings, like, EVER.
I guess she must have seen some of her friends have them, but she had never commented on them and never asked for earrings before yesterday. I told her it was going to hurt.
"I will be brave," she said. "Even if it hurts and is a little bit uncomfortable."
Ok, I said. I called Armando, who met us at the Cottonwood Mall Piercing Pagoda right before Reni's nap time. We waited for the second employee to begin her shift so that they could do both ears simultaneously, in case the pain made Anika change her mind half-way through the piercing process. I held her hands and asked her if she was sure. She said, emphatically, yes, then tucked Rosita under her arm and climbed up into the director's chair inside the kiosk. I kneeled and held her hands. They cleaned her ear lobes and marked where the holes would be. She beamed. "That didn't hurt at all, mama!"
Wait for it, dear. "It is going to burn a bit when they put the actual holes in your ears for the earrings," I told her. "It's not too late if you want to change your mind. We can always do it later."
"I'm ready now," she said, and squeezed my hands in encouragement.
Ok then. This kid is braver than me.
The very sweet employees kneeled on either side of her, piercing guns in place, then counted to three and - a bit of a cry, then a weak smile, then a huge smile as they brought her a mirror and she saw the sparkling butterflies that she had picked out herself. "I look great with earrings!" she proclaimed.
Yes, honey, you do. So grown up now. Sniff.
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