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Missy’s life was wonderful. She had the perfect home, the perfect husband. And she had her mostly perfect daughter. She only thought that because Addison’s hair had finally started growing now that she was eighteen months old, but while they thought she was going to be a blonde, it was turning out to be more white than anything.
And that wasn’t perfect. It wouldn’t make her fit in.
When they went out of the house, Missy would make sure Addison had on a hat that covered her whole head so nobody noticed that her daughter was different. But when they were home, she’d put that silky white hair up into pigtails and let her be free.
Dale wanted it covered at all times, in case of an unexpected guest or something, but a wig on a baby wasn’t practical. They had tried, and Addison always frowned at them before throwing it off and toddling away.
Addie never threw fits. She was perfect, except for that hair. She never screamed, she slept soundly and never complained about going to bed. She actually seemed to look forward to it.
She. Was. Perfect.
But there were moments where the older woman was concerned about her perfect baby. Moments where she wondered if her white hair was affecting her brain somehow.
Addison would play quietly in her room without complaint every single day. She never cared to watch television and sometimes she seemed to be talking to herself. She shrugged a lot for a baby who still only said maybe two words clearly. And she would laugh out of nowhere sometimes.
Missy worried about her. None of her other mom friends’ kids acted like her Addison. They threw tantrums, they screamed when they didn’t get their way, and they certainly didn’t self entertain on the same level. Every single mom in her mom group had some complaint or another about their children. Missy never had anything to add.
Addison acted normal during play dates, of course. Interacting with the other kids for the most part. Though, sometimes Missy caught her standing off on her own, just watching the other kids, and smiling or frowning as if she was having a conversation in her head.
So it came to be that one day, while Missy was washing dishes after lunch, Addison was playing quietly in the living room within sight, that she saw the little girl have her first moment of what could only be explained as a fuss.
She gasped loudly, catching Missy’s attention. The little girl pushed herself to her feet, one of her dolls dangling from her hand to drag on the floor. Two little pudgy hands ended up on her hips and she had a frown on her face.
Missy watched curiously as her perfect little girl frowned, stomped her foot, and said a name, clear as day. “Wyaaaaatt!” Addison whined in such a petulant tone that Missy was caught off guard. Then her little girl stomped out of the room, still dragging the doll behind her.
Missy immediately ran for the baby book, it was the first time Addison said someone’s name! And she wrote down ‘Wyatt’ in the book under the Year One page with a grin. As she closed the book and put it back in its place, she paused.
They didn’t know anyone named Wyatt.