Poodle Skirts - and Jazz

Eilis announced last week that she needed a poodle skirt for her "spring sing".  It just happens that I kept the one I made in 8th grade home economics glass.  I know - really? Yes.  Really.  After looking for it in three different places (okay - so I haven't completely unpacked everything) it was discovered unharmed in a rubbermaid box in the garage attic (along with those comfortable black heels I thought I lost - whoop - bonus!  And a plan for the weekend... who knows what other treasures I'll find up there!!).  Fifteen minutes later, and a full two hours before her concert, she is decked out in poodle skirt, pink shirt, pink sneakers, a very high and ribboned ponytail and scarf wrapped jauntily around her neck. Naturally, I remark, "So - you have a 50's theme for your spring sing?".  
She eyed me quizzically. "A theme?  What do you mean?"
I return the quizzical eyeballing.  "A theme - you know like the kind of songs you'll sing and the costuming.  You're doing a 50's theme?  Hence, the poodle skirt?"
She relaxes her scrunched up face.  "OH!  Yeah.  No.", she deadpans, "We're singing jazz. I just wanted to wear a poodle skirt." 
Uh.
Okay.
Sometimes there is no connection.  Some things just make you happy.  That poodle skirt gave her joy.  Me too, as I watched her twirl and skip around - ponytail and skirt swirling like a tilt-a-whirl. 
After the concert we walked out of the school with Eilis charging ahead.  I found myself skipping behind her - literally bounding lightly like a little rubber ball dropped from a pocket.  Matt chuckled, "Are you happy? A little - right now anyway?" 
I spun around to face him with a goofy grin, "I guess so."
Honestly, I couldn't tell anyone why.  It was a crazy day - week... month.  So much so that I had fallen asleep at the end of the workday in the over-sized chair in the living room.
Asleep - at 5 o'clock.  Soundly.  For nearly an hour.
But now I was awake - and quite happy.   As happy as my 9 year old in a twirly poodle skirt.  With vestiges of the snappy little jazz tunes thrumming through my brain, rested and bouncing on the sidewalk in my funky new Adidas - I felt simple, pure, joy.
Can't really explain it.  I don't have to - I'll just accept the gift. 
Thank you God - for poodle skirts, jazz, 9 year olds, and JOY.