Pretty Baby

Mason's constantly being called a girl. He can be decked out in blue and carrying a Tonka truck while eating bugs in the driveway and someone will still walk up to us and say "ohmygosh, she's so adorable, what's her name?" Last week, at the Waffle Shop, when I told the woman in the booth next to us that "she" was a boy she said, "Really?! He's way too pretty to be a boy". And it's true. Mase is pretty.

Pretty manly.

Yesterday Aimee and I took the babies to Kid to Kid - an awesome store that sells second-hand baby clothes and toys. I take my purchases to the register - five pairs of sweatpants and one pair of jeans, all Baby Gap and Old Navy - $22.50. Amazing. When the woman gets to the last pair of sweatpants she says, "you know these are girl's, don't you?" First of all, they were blue. Light blue. Second, I lied, she didn't say that. She SCREAMED it loudly enough for every other bargain shopper in the world to hear. Unwilling to let myself be humiliated by the checkout woman, I mumbled "Uh, yeah, I know that", and let her charge me $4.50 for a pair of girl's Baby Gap sweatpants while she kept rambling about how she noticed I'd bought a lot of boy's stuff and that was why she just wanted to make sure I knew that THOSE ARE GIRL'S SWEATPANTS. I would have paid her double if she would have shut up for thirty seconds.

So I put them on Mase today, for no other reason than to prove that checkout lady wrong. I mean, really, what's the difference between baby boy's sweatpants and baby girl's sweatpants. Nothing, right?


Doesn't matter. He's still pretty.

Pretty adorable.