She prances and twirls into my room, all long limbs in gawky motion as she sings her favorite Lady Gaga top 40 hit.
She tries awkwardly to mimic the moves that she has memorized off the video that she repeatedly watches. The whole time, making sure I’m watching her.
Suddenly she strikes a models pose, like she had been sashaying down the catwalk during fashion week in this seasons newest and finest, her gaze is direct and serious and focused on me.
“Melissa.” she announces theatrically. “I want to be a model, singer and actress.” and with a toss of her hair she disappears from my room, singing a Justin Beiber song at the top of her lungs…and actually, in tune.
She glides back into my room holding my laptop that she gone downstairs to collect from the kitchen counter.
She holds it out to me and says firmly, “I need to get my career started. You know people. So make it happen.”
She drops my laptop onto my lap and leaps hopefully out of my room singing, to the tune of another popular song, that I should “make it happen”.
Leaving me staring blankly at my computer, wondering what exactly “it” is that I’m supposed to make happen, other than getting her to clean her room.