I have given up creative control when it comes to her wardrobe, and that includes the night time. She is far too stubborn for me to ever win anyway, and I decided I would save that battle for another day. Like if she ever tries to peg her jeans and wear her bangs straight up, six inches higher than her forehead.
Which I totally know is going to happen someday. That kind of bad stuff has a way of repeating itself.
She is definitely not a morning person (wonder where she gets that from?), and usually spends a good half hour in silence, with a look on her face like this one:
Don't worry, girlfriend. I can totally relate.
But eventually she warms up to us, and starts talking. Once the talking starts, it doesn't stop until her tiny head hits the pillow at night. Which is where the hair magic happens all over again.
Dang, I love this little girl something fierce.
Still, she will probably kill me when she sees these pictures.
And if that happens, remind the Husband that I forbid him from ever marrying anyone who doesn't outweigh me by at least double.
And no, dear husband, I do not weigh a mere 55 pounds.