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What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

Accidental parenting. Apparently this is what I was doing before I discovered I was an overcooker. Who knew that my good intentions were going to come back and haunt me? I thought my valiant efforts to wrap my daughter like a mummy and keep her stain-free was heroic… After all, she might want her own daughter to wear these treasures from K-Mart one day.
 
I do not know why this tradition was important to me. I was too busy to ponder stuff like that back then. Maybe it had something to do with my mother selling my Barbie dolls when we moved from Illinois to Texas.
 
Dot to dot.
 
Going through old storage boxes, I found Marissa’s baby clothes. I squealed, “Look! I found all her baby stuff with no stains!” I proudly waved a yellow bunny dress.
 
No quicker had I waved this trophy, Marissa ran to our driveway in a gigantic tizzy. Now 14. Tizzy’s are not so cute.
 
“Mommmm!” She pointed to a teensy orange something on her t-shirt. “Kyle flung the orange juice thinking it was funny and it splattered everywhere. Now it’s ruined. You’re going to have to buy me a new shirt.”
 
Huh? Buy her a new one? Where did she get that silly idea? Oops! More dot to dots.
 
(I tell you this. Finding a bunny dress stained with blue chalk and brownies would have probably been more fun than finding one without.)