Tucker happened on to a naked manequin today at Ann Taylor. Oh, dear. Total fascination.
"Mommy. I see her bottom."
"I know, Tuck." I pushed Tyler's stroller, in hopes that my nonchalance would encourage him to move on as well.
No dice.
He had quite an angle to view Her anatomy, from his vantage point. He stayed close to me, but he kept one eye on Her the entire time we were in the store.
And I found him peeking underneath the skirts of other manequins (thankfully not real, live women) to see if they were each built the same.
We cut that visit short. They didn't have the skirt I wanted, and I didn't need to foster any more anatomy lessons. It made me most thankful that he was four. Not twelve.
Seriously, Ann Taylor. Keep the women dressed. In the name of all things decent for preschool boys. And boys in general.
2 comments:
He's not four. Don't say four. He has to be three for at least another couple of years.
Actually, you are right. He is three. Very much three.
I'm really not sure what I was thinking. We have a few more weeks of three. :)
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