Your ragtime gal can't help herself--I have what I call "little girl moods", though I'm...well, let's just say, way past the little-girl years. When I'm in a little girl mood, out come the Hello Kitty scrunchies and the barrettes with the little pink flowers on them. I never got to wear those things when I was little, so I go out of my way to make up for lost time.

If I'm lucky, my home-health aide--the person who drags me out of bed and gets me showered, dressed, and somewhat presentable--will be in a similar mood.

Such was the case, today, when my aide brushes my hair. I tell her I'd like her to braid my hair; I usually wear it French-braided down the back, but she asks if she can do braided pigtails. Since your ragtime girl is basically a six-year-old in the body of...someone considerably older, you can pretty well guess my response. Here, for visual-aid purposes, is the result:

(Photo removed).

Ah, but did my aide stop there? Not on your life. She then wants to put lipstick on me (something that normally, your ragtime gal only wears during a lunar eclipse) and to her delight, I had a flip-top box with a variety of colors. I don't think I'd ever seen anyone so happy to put lipstick on someone else. She even remarks to me, "You're going to be my doll today..." It tickled me so, because the whole incident seems so much like the typical TG fiction story: "What, sis? You're practicing styling hair and you want to put mine in pigtails? And you wanna put lipstick on me?? Well.....okay....but don't tell the guys...." (wink, wink).

And I have to tell you, all day I've been in a cheerful mood, a rarity in these last few months.

Object lesson here? If you have an inner little girl, let her out to play once in a while....