Tea Party

By Lexie Sanders

A polyester fairy princess dress. That’s where this begins. A purple, shiny dress, made of itchy material. It’s decorated with little purple and pink flowers that have been drowned in glitter. The dress had a matching set of purple fairy wings with long ribbons attached to the back. I used to put it on like backpack straps.

I used to put the dress on over my T-shirt, my jeans showing at the bottom. The fairy wings sat lopsided on my back, drooping depressingly on the left side. My socks didn’t match; one was blue with a puppy on it, and the other was just a normal white sock. They were squashed into these pathetic little plastic dress-up shoes… that never really seemed to fit quite right.

My guests were dressed to the nines… oh, yes. Mrs. Teddy wore a very pretty floral dress with little pink flowers splattered all over it. Meanwhile, her husband, Mr. Teddy, wore his bright red bowtie. To their left, my doll, Lilah, wore an elegant sundress. Beside her, my stuffed Tiger wore a wild and poofy blue feather scarf. Finally, squirming around in his high chair was Murphy… my dog, who was whipping his head around, frantically trying to remove the bonnet I’d put on him.

I rushed to the bathroom, opened my mother’s makeup drawer, and hastily applied the brightest lipstick I could find and smothered my eyes in glistening eye shadow. In the mirror’s reflection, I looked at my curly, dirty blonde hair. I had brushed the curls out, thinking my hair would look straight, but it just became a frizzy mess. On top of that frizzy mess, I placed a plastic tiara. I smiled at my reflection, thinking, at the time, I looked like such a grown-up.

Upon re-entering my playroom, I was met with a ghastly sight. Murphy, the dog, had accomplished the task of removing his bonnet. I gasped, ashamed that he would misbehave in such a way in front of my special guests.

“Murphy, what a bad baby you’ve been! Please, excuse him, everyone,” I said, rushing over to the dog and retying the bonnet around his head as he growled at me.

I began to pour the tea for everyone, one little plastic cup at a time. Each cup was a varying shade of pink or purple with a large white daisy on the front. I walked behind each of their chairs with elegance, with grace, with the subtle swishing sounds from my polyester dress rubbing against my T-shirt. One by one, I gently reached over the shoulder of the chairs and poured water out of the purple teapot. Once each cup was filled, I lovingly placed a baby bottle in front of Murphy.

I took my seat at the other end of the table, looking at everyone to make sure they were having a good time, and they were! Well… all except Murphy, who had freed himself from the bonnet again, and I just didn’t feel like fighting him a third time. As I sat there, I sipped my cup of water, pretending to listen intently to the conversation of my guests. Suddenly, Murphy began to whimper in his high chair.

I stood slowly and said, “Excuse me again. Please, enjoy your tea. I have to tuck my baby in for his nap now.”

I picked the dog up and out of the high chair and rocked him back and forth, patting him on the back gently. Like a true mother, I calmed him down and laid him in a crib. Murphy looked up at me with you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me eyes. I sat on the floor beside the crib and hummed a lullaby, covering the dog with a small blanket. Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. It was my older cousin, who had been staying with us for a while.

“Are you really doing that to the dog again? You’re such a freak.” He sneered and turned away, calling for my mom to come reprimand me and save the dog. Several moments later, my mom came down and smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that only a mother can give her child.

“What’s this? All over your face? You don’t need that stuff.” She smiled as she said it, rubbing the makeup off with a warm rag. “Why don’t you come and help me cook dinner?” She took my hand and guided me upstairs with her.

***

Now, I find myself an adult, sitting on the floor, a tall mug of tea steaming on the coffee table. As I take a sip of my tea, Murphy, who has grown old, looks at me from the corner of the room. Maybe, deep down, he misses his bonnet too.