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Friday, March 23, 2012

She Likes Me, She really, really likes me!

“I like that Tracey Bacon.”

Ada is my new friend. She’s three years old. She has blond hair, chubby, sun-kissed cheeks and a ready smile that makes me feel special. As I chat with her mom about writing, life, and peri-menopausal hormones, Ada runs barefoot in and out of the back door on her wonderful little-person legs, dressed in teeny tiny jeans and a T-shirt. She brings me flowers. I know they’re weeds, but she hides them behind her back and presents them so proudly all I see is a beautiful bouquet—and I can’t help but sit a little taller.

Ada likes me. I know this because she’s three and because she says so.

That’s it.

Even before I handed over a Ziploc bag of leftover chewy Jolly Ranchers, Ada had already made up her mind about me—had already decided to honor me with her friendship. Here’s why: Last time I met Ada, I said, “See ya later, Alligator” as I walked out the door.
Promptly, she told her mom, “I like that Tracey Bacon.”
Just me. Being me. Not trying to please or impress. I captured sunshine in the body of a tiny, precocious three-year-old girl and I’ve been living in the afterglow ever since.

I’m enough for Ada. I’m enough for Jesus.

I have to think about this. Ponder it. Is it really that easy? If I’m just being me, will people like me the way Ada does?

Do I have to be Tracey—the writer—Bateman. Tracey—the super-spiritual, have it all together—Bateman. What about Tracey—the animal-lover, perfect mom, good cook, edgy, funny, skinny, pretty woman—Bateman.

I can be a lot of different people—not all of them are truly me—and honestly, I’m a little afraid of taking off the hats that don’t fit. There’s a lot of messy hair under there!

But right now? For a moment, I look a little girl in the eye, and she likes me: Tracey Bacon.

1 comment:

Deirdre said...

Children have such a way of making us feel special! :)

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