why you don't take three year olds shopping

So I took Melanie in the dressing room with me the other day, it was my only choice because she is three and it wasn't safe to leave her outside the door. She was such a perfect little girl by helping me choose which clothes to try on, telling me which outfits looked good and which ones "looked yucky."

The honesty of little kids can not be matched. Truly.

Anyways, she was being such a saint until she got bored.

Then the fidgets set in and she start getting off the cozy little bench in the corner and wandering all around our cell, thereby catching my backside in the midst of dressing. I wear underwear, sort of. I have a bubble butt and have worn thongs since before you could get them at Wal-Mart. When I started wearing them they could only be bought at the kinds of places strippers shop at.

But my logic was seven inches of panties in my butt or one inch? The choice seemed too clear to me.



Anyway, it was the very first time Mel had every seen me in underwear and that was not such a good thing because there in Old Navy she announced:

"Mommy, your butt ate your panties!"

Loud enough that the very crowded Saturday afternoon dressing room crowd snickered loudly. I was grateful that we were not in one of those places where the dressing rooms are open.


Later that night, when we got home, she decided it was pretty funny and paraded around our home with HER butt eating her panties.