her mother's daughter

With my continuing distress (and misplaced guilt) over Sage's spudchild Sara, I told Nikki we should get her a real doll. Not that she doesn't have any, because she does, but somehow Dora and the innumerable stuffed animals have fallen out of favor.

Besides, we wanted to get stuff to keep her busy on the plane and decided that a trip to the toy store would have multiple benefits.

Since Sage sometimes pretends to be a doctor (even developing a soothing foot massage, unprompted by me), Nikki wanted to get her a doll that came with a lot of doctor thingies: thermometer, stethoscope, bandages, injections and others.

But since Sage also has developed a fascination for all things Cinderella (going around with our artsy-fartsy flyswatter cooing "Bibbity-bobbity-boo!" and insisting on wearing her blue "Cinderelly" dress 90% of the time), I wanted to get her a young Cinderella doll that comes with two mice, a slicable birthday cake and of course, her lovely blue ballgown.

I placed both dolls (in their boxes) on the floor, called Sage over, and explained the pros and cons of each doll (my audience soon grew to encompass the competing salesladies and some other children).

Dean: So, Sage, there you have it. Now you need to choose only one. Which one do you want?

Sage (points to Cinderella): This one, Dad.

Dean: Are you sure? This other dolly has-

Sage (firmly): This one, Dad.

Dean: Okay.

I told the winning saleslady that we'd return for the doll once we complete our other purchases. Along the way, we spotted Barbie as Cinderella.

Dean: Sage, look! It's Barbie, it's Cinderella!

Nikki: You just want to buy her a Barbie.

Dean: Well, yes, but she has to choose.

Meanwhile, on a rack more her height, Sage spotted a vanity kit: mirror, lipstick, four brushes with a holder, and a set of false nails with adhesive, all in glorious plastic.

Sage: Dad, look!

Dean: Okay, give me that. Here, now you choose only one.

I placed the Young Cinderella and Barbie Cinderella in their respectives beautiful boxes on the floor. Next to them, I positioned the vanity kit. Again, I pitched each one to Sage, because I take my daughter seriously and want her to make an educated decision.

Sage: I want this one, Dad. This one, Mommy.

Crestfallen, I followed her finger to the vanity set and realized that it too was emblazoned with Cinderella's image.

Dean: But sweetie, it's...plastic.

Nikki: Ah, but it's also only P70.

Dean: It is?

I took a look at the price tags of the other dolls. Young Cinderella, P1200. Barbie, P1000.

Dean: Great choice, Sage! Let's go pay for it!

Later at home, we watched Sage pretend to paint her toes.

Dean: You know why she chose the kikay kit?

Nikki: Why?

Dean: Because she wants to be just like her Mommy.

Thankfully, the Kodak moment spared me any violent reactions.