Red Door

So, we're home from vaca, and there's the usual catching up to do -- laundry, emails, etc. Actually, the kids are playing rather nicely, and it's quiet. Then, comes the fashion show. Apparently, my two little boys are enjoying dressing as girls and come down to display their sister's dresses, which they are both wearing. Ajers models a lovely cotton pink and white tank dress and gives me a big smooch asking if I notice anything?

He's wearing lipstick. Should I be scared?

There are a few more clothing changes, a photo shoot, which perhaps I will torture them and post a couple pictures. Tukey does look adorable in Diva's pink tulle ballerina outfit, and he does a couple pirouts (however you spell it) for me.

I sniff. Not because he is so adorable that I cry. It's because I smell something.

"Are you wearing perfume?" I ask him.

Proudly: "Yep."

Me: "Boys don't wear perfume, only girls."

Tuke (defiantly): "Nuh-uh, boys could weah it too."

I sniff again. It's my mom's Red Door scent, the kind she left behind for Diva. He smells like a whorehouse. At least what I imagine a whorehouse would smell like, as I've actually never been inside one.

Me: "My God, how much did you put on!?!?"

Tukey's reply: "Plenty."

No kidding.