The tears in Millie’s favorite fuschia dress brought tears to her eyes.
“Mommy, I’m sorry,” Violet said, her big, round eyes near tears of their own. The thick gobs of mascara and purple eyeshadow caked around them would surely streak an oily black trail over the rosy pink blush painted on her cheeks when the drops began to fall.
Millie didn’t mind when the girls used her old makeup to play dress-up – in fact, she encouraged their desires to act like proper young ladies – but taking her favorite clothes and cutting them to shreds had crossed a line.
“Why would you do this?” she cried, holding up the shredded dress. “You have a whole box of my old clothes to wear when you’re playing grown-ups.”
“I wanted to look like the girl on the magazine,” her daughter whimpered.
“You’ve ruined a perfectly nice dress, Violet!”
One which Millie had saved four weeks of her household allowance to buy. She convinced the girl at the store to hide it in layaway until she returned with enough to cover the sale. From the moment she tried it on, she knew it was the dress. The one which always earned gushing compliments from other wives when she wore it to parties and dinners with Harold. The one that made her feel like a million bucks. Like a model on a magazine.
And now it was ruined beyond repair.
“Please don’t cry, Mommy,” Violet begged. “I’ll save up my allowance and buy you another pretty dress to wear.”
Her earnest promise tugged at Millie’s heart. It would take her daughter two to three years to save enough quarters to buy another dress. Something about this made Millie laugh. She couldn’t explain the humor which poked her with a smile. God knows what type of dress her imaginative daughter would select for her if left to her own devices. But Violet meant well. She wanted to make her wrong right.
And to Millie, that was worth more than a million fuschia dresses.
– Written by Miss A