Bambina loves to play dress-up these days. She has a small box that has lots of hats in it so she can be an astronaut or ballerina or construction worker when the feeling strikes her. So imagine my dismay the other day when I went upstairs to find her in my closet wearing only the following:
Her big-girl underwear
My knee-high, pointy-toed boots (that were thigh-high waders on her)
I stifled my alarm enough to say, "So! Tell me about your outfit!" (oh dear god...)
She replied, "I'm going to work." (oh dear god!)
"Where do you work? I hope it's up here because we're not going anywhere near stairs with those big boots on."
"Me work in town." (OH DEAR GOD!!)
"What do you do in town?"
"I'm a doctor." (Phew!!)
I then got to say something that I have never before been able to (and never will again): "Sweetie, my bra is a little bit big for you."
She was shortly thereafter luckily persuaded into flat red shoes, a tutu, and a fabric belt as a necklace, an outfit I told her was far more medically-appropriate for a physician of her caliber.