Every November, our family tradition of shopping for fancy Christmas dresses officially marks the start of the holiday season.
We load up the kids and trek out to the mall, where the kids marvel at “so many Christmas things!” as my two year old exclaimed this past Saturday. Craning their necks, they take it all in: the Christmas trees decorated with gold balls and red ribbon, the displays of teddy bears and Christmas pajamas, and the brightly wrapped presents everywhere, which my two year old kept grabbing…at least some of these many presents must be for her, right?
Our favorite store for fancy Christmas dresses always features live music on their shiny grand piano. The girls dance and twirl, swinging their arms.
The pianist always notices, and switches from Elton John easy listening to favorites among the preschool set…the ABC song, and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. On Saturday, seeing the girls in their U of M outfits, he played the Fight Song. My appreciative four year old grooved along.
When it’s time to stop dancing, they take turns having me hold them up to see the piano’s inner workings. The pianist helps out by playing scales so they can watch the hammers strike the strings in succession.
Next comes the trip on the escalator, which my older two used to call “the excavator.” When we arrive on the second floor, watching other people on the magic stairs is almost as much fun as riding it themselves.
Soon enough, it’s time to get down to business–finding dresses for these three girls. Their reactions are priceless. I remember the trip when my middle daughter was just two. We slipped the first dress over her head in the dressing room, and she gazed at herself in the mirror. Her face lit up and she shouted, “I’m pretty!!”
This year, they took turns dancing in front of the three-way mirror in the dressing room.
Then they all crowded onto the “stage” together.
Not that it’s all sequin and smiles. There is a reason I never take them to the mall myself. They only set foot in this fairy-tale world when the adult-to-little person ratio is 1 to 1.
With Grandma along, usually we can handle the drama…such as my youngest daughter’s meltdown last November.
When these scenes inevitably occur, a gray-haired shopper will turn to me and say, a little misty-eyed, “Enjoy these special moments! You’re making memories for later years.”
Those friendly strangers are right. Despite the meltdowns and logistical challenges, I’m so glad we hold on to this special Christmas tradition.
