I can still hear my dad's voice as I climbed on my nonna's couch & him saying "you're not like other little girls, are you? you like red! you're not a pink girly girl." and he said it with such certainty and I loved him so much that I just agreed with him "yep, I sure do like red Dad. it's my favorite."
you can see where this is going. it's taken uh, quite a few decades to not only admit but actually realize that yeah, actually, I do like pink. I do like sparkly shit. I do like to curl my hair and bake desserts and cut roses from the bush in the front yard and put them in pretty little jars all over the house. I do like to talk shop with the other moms at swim class about how hard it was to get the kids to eat breakfast before class today, how yummy that bread was that you made with your new teal bread maker, and share the names of all the babies we've cumulatively lost.
and I like to be at the BMX track and yell "pedal pedal pedal!" at my boys and pick the little people up off the corners when they crash and try to bargain with them to get back on their bike and finish their race. and I like to fly the hot air balloon even though I'm not so good at finding targets and sometimes I don't like any of the landing options and just keep flying until I have to pick the one that is filled with longhorns (spoiler: they were super friendly and didn't even step on my envelope).
so, who knows the moral of the story. beyond the fact that this note has been an open tab on my computer for 2-3 weeks and now that I'm rediscovering it and completing it...I have acquired a baby pink frother after my free one quit, one mug from Ikea that is very...90s pink (?), and my nails are chipped apart but bright pink because my CO neighbors found out it's a girl. I'm so fucking excited for them <3
