September 25, 2014

Fiveteen

I made up the age and she is making up every rule that accompanies it.

Exhibit A:



Notice anything wrong with this picture?

Did you notice the little strap by her shoulder.  Yep.  That would be a bra.

She is five -- many, many years away from even a whisper of a need for one.  That doesn't matter to her.

We were shopping recently and as she was walking her confident, swanky strut in front of me I looked down at her and noticed her t-shirt slipping to the side of her shoulder, revealing a little strap.  I did a double take.  Was I seeing what I thought I was seeing?  I stopped her and quietly had to ask, "Eliza, are you. . . are you wearing a. . . a bra?"

"YUP!" (at her usual volume of 100) "I got it from Eva's drawer and put it on last night before I went to bed." Said as just as matter of fact as you can get.

"Oh," {turn head and surpress laughter} "ok." If she was confident in her decision to dress herself, then I was not going to burst her bubble -- at least not at that moment.

Oye.  What am I going to with this little girl that uses her headband as a nostril strap?



Luckily, the answer is easy. Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Not when she has the love of 100 children all crammed into her little bra covered heart.