Tom Boy vs The Princess

From Paris to Mania by way of Marseille.

From Paris to Mania by way of Marseille. (Photo credit: Felix_Nine)

How did it happen? Me, the tom boy extraordinaire has a Princess Crazy Daughter.
Lets face it I have in my lifetime spent less time on my hair, make-up (that means mascara to me) and clothing choices than my youngest daughter.
This morning for instance, it is a dilemma to choose which shirt goes best with her shorts. They are blue jean shorts,  for heaven’s sake, everything goes with them.

Then her hair, which she asked to be french braided. No problem, I can whip off french braids in seconds. And yes I know that goes against Tom Boy Code, but it is a genetic flaw. It turns out she wants regular braids, now they need to be tied up to the top of the braid in a circle(and no not the Starwars Princess Lea braids, that is some male nerdy sexual idea, I digress). But wait that is not quite right. Are you kidding me??
I can do french braids, rolls and cute buns, but stop changing it. You are going to school doing the monkey bars all day and apparently primping in the washroom.
I like cuteness, honestly wear a dress once in a while, put on mascara everyday and own a straightener and hair products but lets face it I am a Tom Boy or if being generous, maybe Sporty Spice.
Love shopping at sport chek, love getting sporting gear as a gift and actually like baking. But can get ready in a minute, do not own glitz and prefer flats over stilettos.

Now my daughter saw a pair of orthotics and was excited because they looked like high heels.  Orthotics!  Lordy, lordy. So when it comes to nurture over nature how does this happen. I try not react to this crazy demands, what is SOOOO important to her, is not so much to me.

I suppose the good thing is, one day I will dress better, for in fact I will have my own fashion consultant!

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