We are too busy being fabulous.

My 6 year old son’s favourite Christmas gift came from my Mother in Law. She had just returned from Paris, where she bought him the uniform that the ballet dancers wear dancing in the Palais Garnier.

He was loving himself sick.

Later that day at my Mum’s place, he dropped tomato sauce all down the front of that puffy shirt. Cue complete hysteria until Mum showed him the Napisan and the soaking bucket and explained how the whole process worked. It was cleaned and pressed and delivered back to Jack, who now only ever wears it wherever there is an absence of food. He tends to team the top with a tutu skirt though, because he says it is “more cooler” when he dances.

***

I woke up this morning and found a comment on a post a wrote ages ago. This post.

I read the comment, which said “Why would you let your son wear that fucking dress?” It was from Anonymous. Why are Anonymous-usses always pricks? 

I deleted it quickly then felt sad and angry, then really really angry. And very sweary and ranty, but I have calmed down now.

Because Jack and I had the BEST DAY EVER!

***

After I deleted the comment, I walked into living room where Jack was watching TV. We had the day to ourselves and his little face beamed when I told him that we could do whatever we wanted. Just him and me.

Was there something he would like to do?

OF COURSE THERE WAS!

He wanted to roll a Happy Meal, Get a Mani, Visit the Benefit Counter for some lip gloss and buy a new top.* 

And that is what we did.


He is well known at this counter. The chicks here are fab.


So Anonymous, until YOU can do a one handed cartwheel into the splits, rock a yellow and red glittery mani, find your perfect shade of gloss and pull off a very questionable top/tunic with a deep v. neck, ruffled sleeves and a crocheted belt, I would kindly invite you to make hot, uncomfortable and awkward love to yourself.

We don’t have time for haters.

We are too busy being fabulous.

*He also wanted to get a kitten today, but that is not happening until he eats a wider variety of fruit and veg. Which I hope is soon, because I really want one to.