Lately my son has been crazy over superheros in all their characters. We see Spiderman on backpacks while dropping off the first grader. We tie on the Superman cape as he goes zooming through the house rescuing the damsels (all three sisters) in distress. And I have been his favorite "bad guy" to karate chop.
Last night my knight in shinning armor (that's right Daddy made him an oak sword out of scraps from the workshop), came down in his big sister's pink tutu. "Look Daddy. Skirt," and laughed his head off. My husband kept a straight face and asked him what color it is, "Piiiink."
"Do boys or girls wear pink?"
"Go take it off and put it away please, son."
And as bright as can be, "OK."
I couldn't hold back the giggles as my super-manly, pink-skirted boy toddled back upstairs to play tools with his reluctant sisters.