Grant me a wish, or not…
Miss Charlie had a play date this afternoon. Well kind of a play date. Every Wednesday she and her best friend have ballet class after school. I picked them up from school and we fought our way back up the street. As usual they trudged along behind me and the pram, trying not to step on the cracks and gossiping in their secret code about the day’s events. More like who’s crushing on who no doubt! (I have it on good authority from The Twins that there is a certain “boy” on the horizon for Miss Charlie – I’ll have to keep you posted on that one).
As we cross the pedestrian crossing and the Lollipop lady scowls at me for lagging behind at the back of the group of sheep, The Friend skips up to me. She tugs on my hand and says in a rather unusual sing-song voice, one that could only mean trouble and one that is loud enough for all of the nearby parents to hear,
“you look really pretty today.”
I couldn’t believe it! I smiled and began to thank her, saying that it was a very nice thing to say, only to be cut off by her once more – she wasn’t finished.
The little-devil-monster, oops I mean The Friend, proceeds to tack on,
“much prettier than last week. Last week you were wearing those baggy genie pants… Uggglllyyyyy!
Well, guess that’s that. Apparently my fat pants aren’t even fooling the kids…