It was Friday afternoon. My desire to primp before work had waned somewhere around Hump Day and nobody has to tell me twice that the dress code at school on Friday is casual. So dressed in jeans and my black shirt du jour, sporting a deflated ponytail, bags under my eyes and the frazzled look of an elementary school teacher who had just survived a day in the trenches, I went to pick up my son at preschool.
As I was putting him in the car he looked at me and said, "Mommy, your hair looks beautiful. You look like a princess." Not sure where he had aquired the adjective or the noun in that phrase, I simply accepted the compliment.
Moments later we were home. I had bought some Cinderella stickers for a custom layout I am making for a client and as I was taking them out of the bag Camden took notice. He looked at the stickers, at me, back at the stickers and then back at me. He then said with great conviction, "Mommy you look like Cinderella." She's blond. I'm not. She has blue eyes. I have brown. Although I often act like there is a tiara on my head there isn't.
As I was pondering his attempted flattery he moved onto the next topic. He asked, "Can I have some M&Ms." Hmmmm. He just turned 3. Coincidence or advanced sweet-talking skills? Either way I'll take it!
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