Don’t Look At Me. She Dressed Herself.

Me [girds loins and adopts chipper yet patently contrived breeziness]: Right, so what do you want to wear today?
Her: Dwess.
M: Okay, how about this denim one?
H: No! Like twousers.
M [quick mental scan for girly keywords]: Well, yes, it’s denim like your jeans but look at these sparkly sequins; they’re pretty aren’t they?
H [adopts contemplative look, head to one side, lips pursed]: Hmmmm. Think……..not.
M [holds up top with 80s-style girl motif plus plain, matching skirt]: How about this?
H: Ooh, like that! [grabs top with one hand, skirt with the other, squashes top adoringly to chest and discards skirt onto floor. Rummages for Bo-ho style turquoise skirt with lavish gold embroidery*]
H: This skirt!
M: Well, you see that doesn’t really go with the top you’ve got.
H: LIKE THIS SKIRT.
M: Fine, well let’s find a top to go with it then.
H [volume increasing]: LIKE THIS TOP!!
M: Yes, but you’ll look a bit odd with that top and that skirt, plus we only have pink tights.
H [smiles sweetly and gazes into my eyes]: That’s OK mummy.
M: Well, it’s not really because we’re going out and—
H [smile departs]: WANT LADY TOP!! WANT BOO SKIRT!!!
M [holding up pink skirt to match ‘lady’ top]: Do you not think—
H [strikes dramatic silent movie heroine pose]: NOOOOO!!!!
M: I’ll get your tights.

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*It’s an eclectic mix. We get a lot of hand-me-downs.

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