I stood in my bathroom, the double sliding door blinds open to the playroom just through the bedroom and watched the kids through the large mirror in front of me. A little girl with long blond hair and big serious eyes walked up behind me and looked at me through the mirror. My straightener beeped signaling that it was hot and I put up some of my hair to get it out of the way to straighten the bottom layers. Brianna watched in fascination as I pulled the hot iron across my hair and told her it was hot, mommy was doing my hair, I was going out tonight, Grandma and Grandpa were coming... conversation rolling off my tongue. I worked through all my hair, chatting with her the entire time and finally finished. I put thirty seconds of care into my face (I'm not a big fan of makeup) and brushed my teeth. Then I turned to my sweet little girl that had watched with wonderment the entire time I prepared for the wedding we'd be attending tonight and said to her, "there, all done, does Mommy look pretty now?"
To which she responded "no." And left the room.
Another mother-daughter moment securely stored in memory, but not quite ending how I thought it would.