She wants my hair curly or her hair straight. If she had her way, I’d dye my hair strawberry blond, but even for her I won’t do that.
I love the idea of being twins but I’m having the hardest time finding matching clothing. If I was a smaller woman, I might be able to buy one of the cute little mother-daughter ensembles on Etsy, but they don’t make them in borderline plus sizes.
I’d put on a purple tutu with pleasure – if I could find one in my size. Same goes with her adorable dresses.
I try. I curl my hair and wear a sparkly crown. I buy patterned tights that are as close as I can get to hers. And, when worse comes to worse, I dress us in black yoga pants, pink t shirts, and pink sneakers. It offends Elizabeth’s fashionista sense of style, but gives her the satisfaction that we look exactly alike.
I love that she wants to look like me. I know, in a less than a dozen short years, she’s not going to want to be my best friend forever anymore. She’s not going to want me to dress like her and will die if she finds out she’s dressing like me. I know she’s going to hide her head in shame when I give her kisses and try to hug her in front of her friends.
Though I hold out hope that she’ll be the exception to the rule of teenage daughters.
So, I search the internet and try to find matching printed t shirts, matching purple tutus, and failing that, something close.
Does your daughter want to be your twin?
