Lately Audrey has been singing. Everything. She makes up her own little tunes and sings about changing her clothes, watching TV, picking up the boys from school...occasionally with accompanying dance steps/hand movements.
She does this crazy hip-shaking thing where she swings her arm around in a circle that never fails to make her Daddy smile, if not all-out crack up.
Last night she offered me these little nuggets of how things work.
She's admiring herself in the mirror, right after I told her she'd applied too much lippy (a smear of lippy so overdone, she was a mini-Carol-Channing). "Mommy, Hot Girls wear lippy."
"Um-hmm, and they have beautiful long hair, and shoes with pointy heels coming out..." (she made a motion pulling her hand out of her heel, just where the stiletto would be) "..and nice dressies."
"I'm a Hot Girl. People will say, 'Audrey, Audrey,'..."
Oh. My. God. Note to self: research the possibility of sending her to a convent at puberty.
I'm horrified. I'll cop to the lippy, but the rest, well, that's gotta be tv.
She also took some time to touch on the oh-so-easy subject of love. Oh, yes, my own little Dr Phil of the garage, coloring hearts in chalk on the sidewalk as we changed the van's battery.
"Love, love, I gwow up, I fall in love.." she sings. "I meet a boy..." I couldn't hear the rest, but the last thing I heard was:
"Never break up, because you will die." She says this, so gravely that I had to stifle a giggle.
Mr W and I exchanged a look, raised eyebrows and all.
"Sweetie, stop that. No more love talk. You need to be worried about learning to read, and getting ready for preschool to start, and not boys. School is much more important than boys."
"Tell her," I smack Mr W.
"School is more important than boys."
I don't think she heard us. She'd moved onto the next heart.