Of Boys and Girls

When we first began the potty training adventure, I began the task of accruing an acceptable amount of cotton training pants so we would not have to rely solely on the disposable variety.  Thus, when I saw good quality training pants on clearance at our local Supercenter, I snatched them up.  The fact that they were mostly blue (with other primary colors) in nature was irrelevant to me.  Girls can wear blue, and, besides, soon enough (hopefully sooner than someone else waited) we'll have a potty training boy in this house and he won't be using the cute pink florals of his sister.

I thought she was so cute toddling about her in white/blue/orange/yellow/red striped undies.

But that was last time around.

Today, deciding to pull out the underwear again, rather than sticking to bare-bottom-ness, I reached for the closest pair: my favorite blue stripeys.  And I asked Micaiah, "Do you want to wear these ones?"

Her eyes widened and she whispered (for the first and only time this morning, despite my repeated commands to do so), "Those are boys!"

My first thought: "Who told you?!"

When did that little girl grow up?