"Prince, Edwin. You're a prince, not a princess."
"Emman prince. Prince."
"Good boy, that's right - prince."
With all of the troubles going around in the world these days, we didn't want to add anything extra. So now he refers to himself as a prince. Which is okay with me and his father, so he can be a prince if he wants. Even if sometimes he refers to himself as Grommit or Thomas. They can be princes too if they want to be.
A few days ago Edwin came upstairs with me while I
I'm always one to take an opportunity when I see it, so I asked him if he'd like me to put it on him. 'Es,' he smiled at me, and then motioned for me to take off his doggy pajama top that hadn't yet been changed for normal clothes.
Before he could change his mind, I whipped off his pajama top, slipped on the fairy dress, and dashed for the camera.
After about fifteen shots, he began to look very disturbed and started pulling at the costume. Although I enjoy a good joke and never give up an opportunity for future blackmail, I'm still I nice mom so I took the costume off for him.
He looked relieved and somewhat embarrassed and when back to playing in his preferred costume.
But it was too late. The pictures were taken, the damage was done, and thanks to the power of the internet his sisters will never let him live it down. Ever. Right, Sam?
2 comments:
The second and third pictures in the dress demonstrate a look seeming to indicate a feeling of unease, perhaps a premonition of the possible problems his present wardrobe choice might cause at some point down the road.
If I were him, I'd go back to the tighty-whitey's and learn how to hack those pictures off the hard drive. Quick!
At least Sam's dress-up pictures weren't on the internet! Yet.
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