Gracie is keenly aware of all things feminine. At 11-years-old, she has made it her mission to make sure the world around her is adequately adorned in pink, purple, zebra stripes, glitter and perfume. Frequently, she goes into my jewelry box to “jazz” up my boring uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. For Gracie, more is better. If you have two wrists, each should be able to hold multiple bracelets. Why settle for one necklace when you can wear two? Rings? Well, there should be one for every finger.
She has also entered into the world of perfume-making. While I can handle the jewelry and other accessorizing she does for me before heading off to my work day (I take everything off when I get in the car and just make sure to put everything back on before I get home), I’m having a harder time with the perfume. Gracie, the Mad Perfume Scientist had several plastic cups lined up on her bathroom counter. Inside those cups were various concoctions made up of hand sanitizer, flowers, extracts, and liquid soap. She then poured the various concoctions into little spray bottles and presented them to me to wear as my new perfume. She named her latest creation “morning mist” but I think a more accurate name would be “morning migraine.” The slightest whiff makes my eyeballs start pounding in their sockets. I had to break the news to her that maybe being a perfume designer wasn’t her natural calling.
My husband, who used to just sit back and enjoy watching me being adorned in all sorts of ways that a middle-aged woman shouldn’t be adorned in, has now become a victim of Gracie’s need to make the world a more feminine place. This morning he walked into his office and found his computer mouse is now well-dressed in something every computer mouse should be wearing this Fall on the mouse fashion runways… a pink tutu.