Blondes have more fun?

Because my mother asked me last weekend if poor Caitlin had any hair, yet, since she couldn't see any in the pictures I've been posting lately, I've been trying really hard to get it to show up on camera. Because she does have hair! I promise! I could even stick a bow in there if I wanted to! But, MAN...

...that kid is BLONDE. And I have, it seems, officially been saddled with two blonde haired, blue-eyed, Georgia peaches, one of whom has already informed me that she is pretty because she has light hair.

And when I asked her if that meant mommy wasn't pretty, with my dark hair? She patted my cheek gently, before informing me that, yes. That's exactly what it meant. 'But it's ok, mommy,' she said.

So, to recap: Brigid is blonde. Caitlin is very blonde. I am not pretty because I am not blonde.

And I need a stiff drink and a manual on how to break your three-year old of her mean girl mindset before she becomes seriously convinced that she is better than other people because of her hair color. So.

That should be fun.