Our daughter scrambled up my side of the bed and pounced on a nondescript sleep mask. "Ohhhh Moooooommy" she cooed,"This is TOO SMALL for you!" She held it against her xylophone shirt. "THIS! is JUST MY SIZE!"
"Oh honey, that's not a bra-"
"It IS--" she slid back down the comforter "-- and it's just FOR ME!" she ran into her room and slammed the door. Was she humming? She may have been humming. She had pig tails and little salmon pink grosgrain bow barrettes and her tiny person glasses with plastic flower beads on each temple. And now, as she proudly rounded the corner again, she wore fuzzy navy pants plus one shiny black sleep mask that was doing its best impression of a bustier. It did remarkably well, but for the nose bridge smack in the middle of her chest.* Rick and I were shaking with laughter, how could we not? Her eyes twinkled. "Wanna take a picture?" she asked, very sweetly.
"YES!!!-" I said and ran to find my phone
and "NOOOOOO!!!" Rick said, "DO NOT TAKE THAT PICTURE!!!"
and I found my phone, but she was already putting a t-shirt on, and now all that was really apparent was the nose nub and general bunchiness. I returned to my "Not a bra" stance and set about reclaiming it, so it didn't get swallowed into child world before the next time I needed to use it. Three y.o. was crestfallen, disbelieving. "You! YOU GO TO CARTERS AND YOU BUY ME A BRA!!" I sorried and sorried and said they don't make bras for little girls, it's only when one gets older and has a bigger body. She slumped on her crib-turned-to-bed, hung her little pig tailed head. And obviously, we are not ready for her to grow up and progress along those lines; and she has no idea whatsoever about the reality behind the wanting of the things, but I do respect this sense of entitlement, Mommy has these things, and I shall have them, too. Why would I not?
*I mean, really, how many objects can adequately stand in for other
entirely unrelated ones? This, though is a game 3 y.o. plays pretty much
constantly. But our adult brains just aren't as flexible.