Princess

Can you believe the title?! Here's how I, a self-proclaimed non-princess (surprise, surprise) and mom of boys, was forced to (proudly, actually) use this as the title for this post.

Today after LBC I headed to Old Navy to try on dresses...with J & L in tow. At their ages (and on up till I was 18, or so) I, myself, considered my mom taking me shopping to be pure torture and definitely child abuse. Nothing to do with my mom, who's great, by the way, I just never liked to shop. Now I realize she had to take us with her and that her dissatisfaction with having to drag two whiny, quarreling kids along was likely twice that of ours. Sorry, Mom. :)

Anyway, the boys were exceptionally good as I perused the aisles and chose several dresses. They were excited about the dressing room and hopped up on the little bench inside. At this point I need you to imagine L getting on and off of the bench repeatedly and ducking behind the hanging dresses during the following conversation*; J speaking in his typical-for-him, LOUD, sweet voice:

*I removed all of the ‘why’ questions in order to shorten this post by about an hour and a half. Or at least by 10 minutes.

J: I’ll look at the dresses when you put them on. Momma, are you gown (pronounced ‘own’ with a g at the beginning) take off yer shoes?
Me: No, I’ll leave my shoes on.
J: Are you gown take off yer unnerwear?
Me: No, we leave our underwear on while trying on clothes.
J: Momma, are you gown be necky while you try on yer dresses?
Me: No, I’m not going to be necky. Remember, we leave our underwear on while we try on clothes.
J: Momma, where’s your tummy? Can I touch it?
Me: No.
J: Okay.

Just now in the first dress,

J: You’re a princess, Momma. (smiles ever so sweetly, his little legs swinging from the bench where he sits)
Me: J, thank you so much. What a sweet thing to say to me. You’re so sweet!

Then he just sat there and smiled. :)

Two dresses later,

J: Momma, you’re pretty.

This kid was on a roll!

And on the 6th dress,

J: Here’s my tummy! (pulling up his shirt) Do you wanna touch my tummy?
Me: (I reach over and poke his belly.)
J: Do you wanna touch my nipple?
Me: No, I do not.

And on that note, we left the dressing room, ducking past the looks that followed us.

Okay, where did he get this princess business?! Anyone who knows me KNOWS I couldn't possibly be responsible for it. Had I a daughter she probably still wouldn't be familiar with 'princess' ideas if I could help it.

The only explanation - he hears how B talks to me and about me. I love my man and hope J & L will treat their loves as well as B treats me. Maybe this princess business isn't so bad after all. I'm liking it already. :)