I get this look a lot.
My daughter is much older than four. Surely she is. She just has to be. Some of the things that come out of her mouth are not what I’m used to hearing from other four year olds. I guess you could call her precocious. Observe the scenario below.
On Sunday, we had a quest to buy bigger pants. Since Ava has been growing like a weed, she looked like a mini Pee Wee Herman in all of her pants. We hit our usual places, Marshall’s, Target and Old Navy. She was fine, normal even, until we got to Old Navy. All of the sudden, she decided that she didn’t need pants, she needed shoes. I couldn’t control her. She was running all over from rack to rack looking for “the perfect shoes.”
Finally, she finds a pair: some shiny silver sandals. And they don’t have her size.
“Mama, I really want these shoes. They are lovely.”
“They don’t have your size, Ava.”
“What size do I need?”
“A 9 or a 10.”
Just then, an unsuspecting Old Navy employee happened by.
“Excuse me, I really love these sandals, but I can’t find them in my size. Do you possibly have them in a 9 or a 10?”
Yeah, that came out of my 4 year old’s mouth.
The Old Navy girl looked at me with a huge grin and even wider eyes and said, “Oh my Gawd, how old is she?”
“45” I said.
I’m going to have to go with you on this one. Put my nearly-4-year-old in the same scenario and she would’ve insisted that the wrong size sandals fit. Really, they do.