Pretty

Yesterday Zack informed me that I need to go get pretty. I didn't look pretty because I was wearing a black sweater (I know, sweater?!). I needed to go put on a dress, preferably one with flowers, so that I would look pretty. I said: "What if I don't want to look pretty?" He looked at me like I was crazy and then repeated his request for a dress, adding that I ought to put on my green neck-a-lace ( how he says it). By then he was getting frustrated with the fact that I hadn't jumped off the couch. He started begging. I tried to sidetrack him, but he was focused. He wanted me in a dress, a neck-a-lace &, his eyes lit up, a crown. The fact that I don't own a crown sort of put a damper on his plan so he let it go and tolerated the black sweater.

Zack is all about things being pretty. This is how my table looked all last week.
Isn't it pretty? He put together this masterpiece one afternoon and fiddled with it every day to make sure it stayed pretty.

Sometimes I am pretty. It isn't very often. It's usually when I am wearing pink, something with a floral pattern, a skirt, or jewelry. One night I looked pretty because I had on some pj bottoms with a pink satin tie. I bought some new shoes and was told that they "are not that good." I should have bought the pink ones because they are prettier.

During preschool Zack earns money and gets to spend it each Friday in the preschool store. Usually he comes home with suckers, bubbles, and other little trinkets. Friday, he picked out a blue neck-a-lace for me because is was sparkly and had diamonds. I wore it all day, even to mow the lawn. I am guessing that is the prettiest I will ever look while I mow the lawn. At least to him.