“That shirt is too small for you now. Put it in your little sister’s drawer,” I told my oldest daughter. A few hours later, younger sister discovered the “new” shirt and came into the kitchen, literally strutting, hips gliding side to side, and one hand poised delicately on her hip, much to the amusement of her parents. (Where does she learn these things?) Clearly, she was proud to own the shirt, and I am thankful that my children have yet to hear the fallacy that there is something wrong or abhorrent with hand-me-downs.
In other news, I said something yesterday about one of the girls hording something–toy princesses most likely. Ever interested in expanding her vocabulary, today my eldest complained that the youngest was “whoring the markers.”
Lost for words.
And finally, the youngest amused herself today by playing dress-up with Mommy’s undergarments. Silk nighties, underwear, slips, socks piled over nylons, and multiple bras adorned her small, three-year-old frame. I would have taken a picture, but it’s not appropriate to post images of my bloomers and braziers. That might ruin this blog’s G status. And that would just be whorible. 😉