My Nickname is Snickerdoodle

Hair Flip

I had a Superbowl party and didn't watch even one second of the game. It wasn't because I was face deep in Buffalo Chicken Dip, but because someone has to watch the children. I spent most of the time outside with another mom, as the kids ran around.
A nine year old girl came with her mom. She wasn't very interested in the game, and bounced around from watching the game, to outside, to the playroom, or chatting by the food buffet.
I rarely find myself in the company of a nine year old girl, but she was absolutely delightful. The first thing that came out of her mouth was fabulous, like so fabulous it sounded like something a contestant on RuPaul's Drag Race would say.
Her mom put some cookies and crackers on the table and said, "Do you like Snickerdoodles, Kiki?"
Kiki, being the little ray of sunshine that she is, said, "No, I don't!"
Then my friend said, "They are Sara's favorite," pointing to her nine year old.
After which, Sara said, "My nickname is Snickerdoodle," and flipped her hair off her shoulder to her back.
Sara and I hit it off like a house on fire. Sara talked about herself, and her dog, for an hour straight. She told me how good she is at making flowers out of tissue paper, and was visibly disappointed when I told her I didn't have any tissue paper for her to show me.
It was sad to see her go, "Please, don't leave, Snickerdoodle! I don't want to go back to talking about boring things adults talk about. I can't talk about the weather, anymore! I don't want to talk about Donald Trump! Please, don't go. I can't talk about gas prices, summer vacations or the last bout of the flu. Tell me more about the flowers, or your dog who ate half a fake Christmas tree. SNICKERDOODLE!!!!"