My aunt Ginger, my dad’s sister, found this like-new “Ginny gown” that my grandma had made, and she passed it on to Hazel. It’s still too big, but I added an extra piece of Velcro to make the neckline smaller, and I put new elastic in the sleeves, and it works pretty well. As you can see, Hazel loves it as much as I used to love my Ginny nightgown when I was her age. I think mine was a pastel floral. I loved to stand over a heater vent to watch it puff up.
My mom also used to put my hair in foam curlers sometimes on Saturday nights. My older brother Tracy called the resulting springy curls “smushed banana curls,” for no good reason other than that it upset me. Eventually it also made me doubt the attractiveness of the look. Unlike my older brother did, Henry often compliments Hazel’s dresses or hairstyles. I love that about him. (Tracy is also much more complimentary to me these days. And he adores my kids.)
“Do normal smiles. I said normal smiles. You clowns.”