The other day I painted my toenails for the first time in, oh, perhaps a year and a half.
As we were playing, Ian pointed to my toes and asked, “What’s that?”
“The sparkly stuff?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“It’s nail polish,” I explained. “Sometimes I wear that just for fun, to make my toes look pretty.”
“Is it for hockey?” he asked.
“No, it’s not for hockey,” I said.
“But you can pretend it’s for hockey.”
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Our MOMS club hosted a kids’ Valentine’s dance, and I decide to go a bit Mad Men with my outfit by wearing a Modcloth dress and bright red lipstick.
“What IS that?” said Ian, pointing to my lips as I strapped him into his car seat.
“It’s lipstick. Something girls wear sometimes,” I responded.
“Can you take it off?” he asked.
“You don’t like it?”
“No,” he scowled.
“Okay, well, I’m going to keep wearing it today, but thanks for telling me how you feel about it,” I said.
I suppose I’ll have to depend on the cat to appreciate the finer aspects of being female…
