Female, American Standard, Fiction, Audiobook
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Mama played dresses her wide hopeful eyes shine as she considers all of the glittery princess costumes before her. Suddenly she squeals with delight and lunges deep into the chest, pulling out a pair of plastic high heel slippers with Cinderella's face on the toes. She plops down in the most un princess like way and pinches her tongue between her lips as she struggles the cheap plastic shoe onto her pudgy foot. A tiny v of concentration forming between her brows. She gets each foot halfway in and staggers upright as proud as if she has just won an Olympic gold medal. Mama. Look. Hi, Auntie Elle. Tears swell in my eyes. Even at two, Beth knows enough to idolize the fabulous Eloise Scott. She will never look up to me like that. I'm just a washed up mother these days. Jealousy and shame burn deep within me. Once upon a time, little girls would have seen me strutting down Fifth Avenue and want to be me when they grew up. I wouldn't trade my sweet breath for anything but there isn't much else I wouldn't give to have both needing a minute to catch my breath. I find myself wandering into my closet and looking at all that is left of the life I once had. I see designer dresses hung in neat color coordinated rows above stunning shoes and bags also very impractical. Now I graze my hand over the rich fabrics and breathe in the old smell of success. I lean against the wall and allow myself to slide down to the floor. I reach for the silver loans I wore on my last day of work at the firm and I've reverently slipped them back on as I stretch my legs out before me. I allow my mind to drift. There was a time when I thought these legs would carry me to the top of the world. Now, all I can see is the dark stubble of legs that haven't been shaved in a month, bruised knee caps and the distinct indentation of crew cut socks in my swollen ankles. My legs are now marred with undying love for a two year old. Funny how becoming a grown up often entails regressing right back down to playing dress up with your Children. Or maybe, maybe I never stopped playing dress up.