childhood · memories · parenting · Pink

The Pink Girl


Carson City, Nevada was a smaller town when we lived there. We only had a few stores. If we wanted to buy certain clothes or specialty items, we made a trip to Reno.

We had a couple of small malls. One had J C Penney, the other had Skaggs Drugs and K-Mart. My three year old, Lydia, loved to go to K-Mart because I bought her ice cream cones there. K-Mart had real ice cream, buttery and sweet.

We went shopping once a week, after we took The Two Brothers to school. It was our mommy and daughter time. Lydia was a pink girl. I tried to get her to wear other colors, but she demanded PINK. She even wanted a pink fishing pole, a girl one,  so she could fish with Daddy.


At K-Mart, we got Lydia her ice cream. Sometimes she let me have a taste- not always, sometimes. And then we looked through the isles to find things we needed, and to look at things that caught our eyes.
Lydia had picked a trove of pink items over the weeks and months. She had a Barbie Girl  cassette tape she listened to over and over. She had pink Jellies- shoes she loved. She had a My Little Pony collection, and so on.
In spring, the store had Mother’s Day items featured. I have always liked Holly Hobbie.  There was a pretty mug I briefly admired. As we walked past the display, my little girl said, “I buy it you, Mama.”
I smiled at her, because I actually had to use my money for necessities. The look on her face was so sweet, I decided this mug was a necessity. She truly wanted to buy it for me.
I put the mug in our basket and Lydia’s face lit up with satisfaction.
When we were home, her Daddy asked “Where’d you get that mug?”

Lydia proudly said, “I buy it!”

The mug is old and chipped now, but I still use it. It is from my little pink girl.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s