Remember the last showdown Ex and I had over painting Little Guy’s nails? Little Guy does. After I got out of the shower yesterday morning, Little Guy noticed my painted toe nails.
“I want paint on my nails,” he said. “My dad’s dead, so I can have paint on my nails, now, wight Mama? Mama, can I?”
“If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me,” I told him.
“Wight now?” he asked.
“No, not right now, “ I said. “I don’t have it with me.” (We’re housesitting.)
“Waiter?” he asked.
“Yes, maybe later, next week some time.”
I have decided that it’s fine for him to have paint on a nail or two or all, if he wants, until he goes to school. Yes, I feel like I need to protect him from the ridicule he would receive. Now, with no daddy, he’ll already be different enough. I see no need to push that any further.
Oh, and yes, Little Guy knows in the most vague, most honest terms I could find for a 4-year-old that his dad got hurt really bad and died and has turned into a star that we wave to at night.
Little Guy has romanticized the star bit and made up so many stories that we could write a series on just what the star of his dead daddy can and cannot do.