Faker

Samantha and I were sitting at the computer on Sunday, looking through some of the photos I had taken of her on Saturday morning. On Saturday I had dressed her in a flowing white cotton dress I found in a thrift store recently. The weather could not have been more beautiful, and in the light coming through the open windows, Samantha looked like an angel.

She laughed and smiled as we looked through the pictures.

“Sammi, what are you doing in this picture?”

“Duck feet!” she replied as an image of her pulling yellow dish gloves onto her bare feet flashed up on the screen.


“What about this picture?”

“Sammi dancing,” she replied to a shot of her prancing around, acting silly.


“And what’s going on here?”

The image of an actress-in-the-making popped up, eyes squinched, mouth open, arms crossed in defiance. I can still hear her yelling, “No, MINE!”

“Faker!” Sammi responded.

Exactly.