I remember the night you were born.
Cleaned up and swaddled in a soft pink cocoon.
Holding you close, sweet newness emanated from your forehead
Dreams of tea parties, shopping trips and girl bondings
I dressed you pink and frilly.
Until you said you’d rather lick toilets than wear dresses.
I pushed Barbie, you pushed Tonka trucks.
No canopy bed for you.
A fire engine red bunk bed graced your room.