Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Shorts

Maya has worn the same pair of shorts everyday for 32 days to kinder.  She even wore them on picture day with pink cowgirl boots.

She made them herself.  Took scissors to a perfectly good pair of jeans. 

She changes up the t-shirt and shoes but the shorts are non-negotiable.

I don't bother negotiating.  Seriously.  Who cares? There are more important concerns when you are five.  Like catching lizards, spearheading games of freeze tag and criticizing Dora The Explorer.

"I hate Dora!"  she said today.  "Her head is too big!"

"But you used to love her!  What happened?" I asked.

"I grew up."

Ouch.  Please don't grow up, Baby!

"Nice shorts, Maya," says T-bone daily.  "Are they new?"

When I wash them at night or on the weekend she gets very testy with me.

"Mom!  Where are my shorts?"  she says with hands on hips, head cocked to one side.

"I'm washing them.  They need to be washed, honey."  I say.  "Do you want to be the stinky kid at school?"

I don't know about you but there was always a stinky kid at my school when I was little.  He was also the kid who picked his nose and nibbled on his fingertips.  Do you remember that kid?

"Are you going to mop the floors today, Mama?"  asked Maya.

"Yes.  Why, my love?"

"Good!  I love a fresh clean floor," she said.  "I'll take your picture."