I loved watching my mom get ready to go out when I was a little girl.
My parents were young. They were twenty-five when I was ten. They still went out to drink/dance with their friends. I would see my mother ironing her dress then complete my chores quickly so I could follow mom around like a puppy, watching her get dressed. Sometimes she would wear one of her wigs out.
I would brush the wig while she slipped into her undergarments and stockings. Then we would proceed together to the small upstairs bath where she would put on baby powder, false eyelashes, lipstick, and mascara. Finally, the dress and wig. All the time, I was in heaven, sitting by my mom as she hummed to herself. I would hum with her, and for a moment, my heart was full.