In which I wonder if my childhood has done my children any favors

A couple of weeks ago while helping DynaGirl wash her hair, we got to talking about her name and where it came from.  I told her I got her name from my best friend in third grade, and then I tried to think of some interesting memories about my friend to make the namesake thing all the more exciting for my daughter. 

Mom:  I remember she had a pet chicken.  It was one of those black and white speckly kind.  She kept it in a cage on her patio because they lived in a condo and didn’t have a backyard.

DynaGirl:  Was it a rooster or a chicken?

Mom:  Hmm…I’m not sure.  Actually, maybe it was a rooster because I think it crowed one morning when I had been sleeping over.

DynaGirl:  Really?  Cool.  What else?

Mom:  Her mom was a beauty queen.

DynaGirl:  What’s a beauty queen?

Mom:  You know, like in a beauty pageant?  She had a bunch of crowns and sashes and things in a display case in their living room.

And then I was very sorry to say I couldn’t think of any more to tell her.  But apparently DynaGirl was impressed because a few days ago while I was washing her hair again (we seem to have a lot of our most meaningful mother-daughter conversations during this ritual), she said:

DynaGirl:  You should have been a beauty queen.

Mom:  What do you mean?

DynaGirl:  Well, it would be really cool to have a mom that was a beauty queen.

Mom:  Oh, sorry.

DynaGirl:  Mom, what did you do that was special?  Before you were a mom?

I racked my brain trying to think of something that would be even the slightest bit impressive to an eight year old girl.

Mom:  Well, I was kind of smart and got really good grades in school.  I got a full scholarship to college.

DynaGirl:  What’s a scholarship?

Mom:  It’s when you get money to pay for your school.  College costs a lot of money, and I had mine completely paid for.

DynaGirl:  Oh.  That’s cool, I guess.

She didn’t seem very impressed.  I was thinking later that I should have told her I had won thousands of dollars.  My kids often fantasize about winning large sums of money, so surely that would have been exciting.  But then I figured considerable cool points would have been deducted once I explained that all the money was spent on school.  Maybe I should have just told her that I used to do a great Fat Albert impersonation.  That might have been fairly impressive had she any idea who Fat Albert was.

I’m not exactly sure what DynaGirl was looking for.  Something to give her bragging rights with her friends?  Does she think her mother being more special would somehow make her more special by association?  I’ve decided that my nonspecialness (in the flashy beauty queen sense) is really more of a blessing for her.  She won’t be living in my shadow.  She won’t feel the need to compare her accomplishments to mine and then feel lacking in any way.  The only big shoes she’ll have to fill are my literal size 9’s.  That’s a gift, right?

So tell me about what makes you special.  What would you say to your child if asked the same question?