2 conversations with my (apparently a little bit sexist) 3 year old:
We were walking into preschool today alongside Miss Kait. Miss Kait is someone we know from church, and she also happens to be the aid to a sweet girl with autism in his preschool class. We are big Miss Kait fans. Sometimes, when Miss Kait doesn’t have to go on to do more therapy with the child she assists, she comes over to our house after preschool (yay!). So today…
Blake: Miss Kait, do you want to come to my house today?
Miss Kait: I wish I could Blake, but I have to work after school today.
Blake: But boys go to work.
Huh. I then proceeded to names some girls in his life who go to work (work in the context that he understands. His preschool teacher and Miss Kait are not at work, they are only there to play with him). He’ll never buy that I work. Heavens no. I named a few, but was cracking up at the fact that most of the women he sees every day stay home with their kids. While I’m going to need him to understand that girls work, I can’t help but smile at the fact that in his world moms stay home with their kids. Which is work. But, well, he may never really understand that.
This was last night, just before bed:
Blake: I love your hair Mama.
Me: I love your hair too Blake!
Blake: But I don’t have girl (pronounced “gril”) hair.
Me: Oh, I can’t love your hair because it’s boy hair?
Blake: Yes. What girl’s hair do you love Mama?
Me: Ummm, I love Aunt D’s hair, and Lulu’s hair, and Miss Caitlin’s hair. Who’s do you love?
Blake: (without missing a beat) Miss Megan’s and Jenna’s and Victoria’s and little Megan’s.
Well ok, then.