Daughters....

I had a bit of a revelation today. I have come to the conclusion that, regardless of how insane they make you, a momma can always count on her daughter. I adore my boys and I have no doubt they love me with all of their tiny little hearts. However, they are about as useless most days as a screen door on a submarine. I mean that with the utmost affection, of course. My boys exist to make fart jokes, play with their penises, and punch one another. I worship the ground those boys walk on, but they are definitely less than stellar examples of cooperative, helpful children. Sophie, however, is the one child that I can always count on to help with any and every task I attempt to complete. She drives me crazy...she pushes my buttons...she is sassy and brazen and bossy. But when push comes to shove, she is the one and only one of my children who will step up and help me out. This afternoon, I left the boys downstairs watching cartoons while I went upstairs to fold two monstrous, overflowing baskets of laundry. Sophie, of course, followed me upstairs to help me. And help me she did.

No matter how many times I have "mentioned" it to them, every member of my family takes their clothes off and throws them in the laundry basket inside out. Ruanita washes them inside out. And of course, when I go to fold them, they are all still inside out. This irks me to no end because, with the exception of my own clothing, I have to first turn all of the shirts and pants rightside out before I can fold them. This basically doubles the length of time it takes me to fold laundry. Of course, I cannot complain unless I want to end up the one washing AND folding all of the laundry. So I simply curse them all silently every time I pull a shirt out of the basket inside out. Sophie, being the wonderfully helpful little girl she is, stood at the foot of my bed and turned all of the clothes rightside out today so I could fold them. She kept up with me the entire way...righting all of the clothing then handing it to me to fold. We turned on the iPod and we sang and we danced. Sophie wasbeyond adorable singing Beyonce to the top of her lungs and shaking her little hips as she helped fold clothes. And she has stamina beyond her years. She stayed upstairs with me the entire time until every last article of clothing was folded. The boys would occasionally stroll upstairs, but as soon as I asked them if they wanted to help, they immediately ran downstairs and parked themselves in front of the TV again. See...useless.

I adore my daughter. It took a couple of gargantuan baskets of laundry to make me see it today, but now I have no doubt. As long as I live...regardless of how much we aggravate and exasperate one another...I will always be able to count on that girl. Daughters are the bedrock of civilization. And I love mine.