For the past month, my dainty Millie has been clutching anything with a strap in the same fashion she is this Flamingo handbag we found at the mall, so it was inevitable that I'd find myself buying a purse for my petite princess. But, of course, Cristina didn't want just any old knockoff knapsack. She turned into one of those crazed pageant moms that go Dr. Frankenstein on their glitter-dunked mini Gagas, and deemed unworthy every bag we came across.
In the end, I'm the one who spotted this flashy fowl and I knew Cristina would approve. She did... and so did Millie.
Looking at this picture makes me incredibly satisfied as a father, but I can't help but think I've created a monster.... a credit card maxing, head-to-toe matching, never enough accessorizing, mall monster. And just like Dr. Frankenstein destroyed himself trying to silence his horrid creation, I too will eventually attempt to silence the mall monster that is my offspring.
Except, when compared to a young woman with all her complexities, an eight-foot tall, freak of experimentation with incredible strength and a penchant for bloodshed is a complete teddy bear. I'll tell Emilia that "enough is enough" and that no 16 year old needs a Givenchy, then three minutes later, after the wrath of Hades is unleashed, you'll see me with my tail between my legs and Cristina trying to pick up what's left of my manhood.
To be honest, though, as long as I get a slice of cookie cake from Mrs. Field's, my little monster can have whatever she wants.
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