“Need any help in here?” she asks, just as her mom, Lisa walks in behind her.“Sure,” I nod, handing her a stack of square metal tins. “Roll up your sleeves and help me put a little bit of everything in each of those. Lisa, would you mind frying the rest of that bacon so that we can crumble it over these cupcakes?” I ask, pointing and gesturing as I talk.“Sure,” they reply in unison before heading toward the sink to wash up.Shoving her sleeves up past her elbows, Daisy washes her hands before layering each tin with red and green tissue paper. “Daisy, that sweater really doesn’t go with that dress,” her mother says, eyeing the black oversized cover up that I wish I could burn. Daisy has been hiding behind baggy clothes ever since we got back from Florida last month and it’s irritating as hell! The woman lost all her baby weight and then some by the time Brannon was four months old. She is acting like she has something to be ashamed of when she should be showing it off.
