So, we were just at Victoria's Secret, because my waist isn't the only thing shrinking. When we got in the dressing room Harrison started a conversation that may have been better in a whisper.
I must preface this by saying that Harrison has always been a little obsessed with boobs. Especially boobs vs. pecks (that's what we call his). In fact, he asked my mother-in-law if she had boobies or pecks? I think she was a little disturbed. If you are already disturbed, stop reading.
H- What is that?
M- A bra.
H-To put over your boobies?
H- Boys don't use bras. (Proceeds to pull down his shirt and show me.) See, we don't like to put anything over our pecks.
M- That's right.
H- Maybe when I'm a girl, I'll put a bra over my boobies.
M- You're never going to be a girl. You'll always be a boy.
Then after I tried it on, put my fitted tank top on (because that's the true test of a good fit -- how does it look with the shirt on) and went closer to the mirror to inspect he said, "You look beautiful." I'm vacillating between whether or not I think that was just plain sweet OR he's already taking on the true characteristics of all men, and he appreciates a women in a good bra. I'll stick with the sweet, because his little face and smile looked very innocent when he said it.
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