Vogue

W is a young man in touch with his feminine side. Since infancy, he’s always been attracted to fabrics of all textures and colors. He waltzes through the house with armloads of clothing hijacked from the hamper, closet or floor. Every morning, he’s fully engaged in my routine as I dress for work and sits with me while I put on make-up. His little hands tear through the bag of goodies like a hyperactive drag queen. He has figured out how to “use” the eye stuff and most recently added a nice 5 o’clock shadow to his tiny jaw line. As soon as I pop open the compact of face powder, he’s right there waiting for this nose to be shine free. I can’t go into the closet without him climbing me like a tree in an effort to be sitting on the shelf above the skirts and below my hanging shirts. He buries himself in there grinning like a member of the Fab Four after a make over.

Here he is sporting his terry cloth robe/striped onesie combo with binkie accessory. Work it, baby!