A "Queen"...

After watching the above clip on America's Home Videos, flashes of my childhood bounced into my mind's eye. Coined a "Drama Queen" by Dad, I think it's safe to say that even that term is being gracious.

Among other instances, I can vividly recall crying spells carried out in front of my mirrored closet (always better to watch yourself indulge in rant); placing my hand on my forehead in a conceited attempt to convince Mommy that I was ill; holding the thermometer under hot water to display just how much I NEEDED to stay home (it never worked...or it worked too well, 109 degrees tipped Mom off immediately); setting up elaborate stages in the hallway where I would perform beautiful plays and operas to a full house (of stuffed animals and Barbies); making up names and characters so elaborate for myself that it prompted my brother to regularly ask me, "Who are you today, Sarah?"; accepting my Oscar (a soccer trophy) time and again in front of the bathroom mirror, beautifully adorned in a sheet or dress (stolen from Mom); and barricading myself into my room, along with a poor little playmate, simply because she would not adhere to the Barbie fantasy world I had created.

Today, I can clearly reason two things from this:

1) God has given me a very clear desire-of-the-heart to act.

2) If and when Clint and I have a daughter someday, it will be the best poetic justice ever.