Yesterday, while Audrey was in class, I ran into a nearby Target to pick up a few things.
Naturally, I wound up browsing around. I have a running list in my head of clothes that are outgrown/need replacing, and there were clearance signs aplenty.
It never hurts to look.
I found a respectable amount of loot for the children, including a hoodie for Ben (five bucks!) and a new jacket for Nolan. Which means as of today, our cold snap is guaranteed to be over.
Anyway, one of the things I found was a cute little camisole top for Audrey. I never buy her anything like this, as she is still mainly into her dresses, but I'd found her some jeans, and spied the cute top all alone on the sale rack. The top is gray, with cream-lace trim, and I also found a cream henley to go over the top of it. Like the big girls wear. I could hardly turn down something that cute for $1.98.
She was delighted when we got home and I showed them to her.
We tried it on, and as I helped her into the gray top, something snapped and hit my finger. ???
No way. A shelf bra in a top intended for "XS 4-5"? Oookkkkayy. I explained to her, "Look, honey, it's got a little bra thing in it," as I wrinkled my nose. She of course had to see it, then had to stand on my bed to see her whole new top (once both tops were on).
So adorable. And the effect was not tarty at all. She really liked it, and was running around the house in her excitement, shelf bra/elastic forgotten.
Or so I thought.
When the boys got home, she excitedly was jabbering on about my finds, and Ben was trying on his hoodie when she says, "Look, look at my shirt, Ben!!!" as she turns around, and then grabs his hands (like little girls do) as she squealed and announced, "And it comes with boobs!!"
Ah, sister, if only it were that easy.
Later that night, I found her in the kitchen, looking at herself at a weird angle in the locker door mirror I have stuck on the front of it. "Whatcha doing?" I asked her.
She looked a little sheepish, as she held out her cami top and had me look down it.
There were two small rubber balls (like the kind you use to play jacks) inside.
Aww, cute, I thought, she's using the shelf bra like a pocket.
Then it hit me, as I realized the balls were spaced out. One on each side. And the little semi-embarrassed look she gave me sealed my realization.
I took the balls from her and walked down the hall, before I burst out laughing in front of her and potentially made things worse. I giggled and told Mr W about it, as he just hung his head down in the "Oh, no" position.
"Oh, yes," I assured him. I decided to ask my little one what was up.
"Honey, what were you doing with the balls?"
"I don't know."
"Were you using your top like a pocket?"
"I don't know."
Fine, I'll ask it.
"Were you pretending to have boobs?"
<little voice> "Yeah."
So we had a little chat about how little girls don't have them. Don't need them. Don't need to worry about them at this point. Stop rushing things, and go pick up your stuffed animals off the family room floor.
Guess she figured if the shirt didn't actually come with boobs, she could just add her own. Apparently, it is that easy.
I'm just grateful she didn't use oranges.
**(Before anyone starts worrying about where she's been hanging out and who she's been around, let me just say don't worry. She's as protected as she can be, she's just curious. She's noticed grown girls look different for a long time, and wonders about it.)**