Fancy lady.

I may be wrong, but I don't think of myself as a fancy lady. I do usually wear makeup, but, right now for instance, I'm wearing jeans with a hole in the knee and an old misshapen shirt I used to wear when I was 9 months pregnant with Caleb (it looks really good on me now, fifty pounds lighter and totally unpregnant). Granted: today is a special tiling day, so this is unusually ratty, but the ponytail is pretty standard.

In spite of this, enter my tiny fancy lady. She's constantly trying to make things into jewelry (she puts mason jar rings and masking tape rolls around her wrists); she always wants to change clothes (this morning, she found yesterday's shirt and put in on over the clothes she was already wearing); she loves, loves, loves shoes. She'll bring me a pair of shoes and we'll put them on, then she'll find another pair of shoes, take off the first pair and we'll put the second pair on, and so on. --I keep telling myself I'll miss these days.

Here's her latest fanciness: she found this amazing dress in the kitchen drawer while I was making dinner the other night, and ta-da!

I guess she needs her own apron.