Isabel has been getting up WAY earlier than usual in the mornings. She has been waking me up. She watches me get dressed, we brush our teeth together and we put on makeup together. (She gets a brush and pressed powder and thinks she is da bomb! And I put a teensy bit of wipstick on her.)
I don't want Isabel to have any complexes or be weirded out by anything having to do with the human body. As I walk around in my underwear, she pats my butt and giggles. The other day, I was topless (and you thought this blog would be all about the "G" rating, huh?) looking for a bra. She saw me, walked up to my with both arms outstretched and said "What are those?" I said "Remember? They're my breasts." To which she pokes and then replies, "They're big!"
So I tell this to my sisters, who BOTH burst out into hysterical laughter (Shut up Ms. Size D and Ms. Size C, you $%^&*#@) and say that was the cutest thing ever. Size D says "Well, of course they're big. She's 4. Size is relative." And relatives are sized differently I suppose.