Lyly has always been curious about the world around her, especially when it comes to clothes. She loves watching her mom fold laundry, tugging at the fabric and admiring the colors. One morning, while exploring the bathroom, she spotted something hanging neatly on the rack—a small, fluffy hand towel. To Lyly’s wide eyes, though, it looked like something far more glamorous.
She tilted her head, studying it carefully. “What a beautiful dress!” she seemed to think, clapping her little hands together with excitement. Without hesitation, Lyly pulled the towel down, twirling around as she tried to drape it over her tiny body. The ends trailed awkwardly on the floor, and the fit was nothing like a dress, but Lyly didn’t notice. In her imagination, she was a princess.
She paraded proudly across the room, holding the towel around her shoulders, occasionally stopping to strike a pose. But the more she tried to adjust it, the more it slipped away. Soon, the towel flopped onto the floor with a dull thud, leaving Lyly staring down in confusion.
Her little brow furrowed. She picked it up again, tugged at the edges, and even tried tying it in a knot, but no matter what she did, it just didn’t look like the sparkling gown she had envisioned. With a frustrated squeak, she plopped down on the floor, scratching her head. “Why won’t my dress stay on?”
Mom walked in just in time to see the scene—Lyly sitting in the middle of the bathroom, tangled in a fluffy towel, looking both adorable and exasperated. Laughing gently, Mom scooped her up and said, “Oh, sweet girl, that’s not a dress, it’s a towel.”
Lyly blinked up at her, still confused but comforted by Mom’s warm arms. Even though her “dress” wasn’t real, the sparkle in her imagination was. And that made the moment even more precious.
Because sometimes, the magic of childhood isn’t about what something truly is—it’s about what it feels like.
