It was a proud day

Last Tuesday I arrived at Logan's preschool a bit early. We were leaving the next day for Vermont, so I had some baby food shopping to do and just wound up getting there early. There are two doors into the classroom. Both were closed, so I just watched through the window.
All the kids were doing free play.
They were all so sweet.
Playdough-firetrucks-kitchen-painting...

I searched for Logan. He had on an obvious shirt that would be hard to miss, but unfortunately I didn't see the shirt.
There were 20 children running around, but I did not see Logan.

As I was about to get concerned, I saw this cute little child walk past in a cute little dressup outfit. It was the most sparkly thing. Blue, purple, pink...ruffles, bows, ribbons. The cutest little blue high heeled shoes to boot.
Awww...to have a daughter, I thought to myself.

Then, the cute little girl turned around...I think you see where I'm going here...and the cute little girl was my SON.

Dressed up as Cinderella, definitely would have been the belle of the ball. Walking so (un)gracefully in his high heel shoes.

The only good thing about it was he was playing with a firetruck.

As class ended, his teacher was next to us and I said, "I see my son was Cinderella today!" and she smiled and winked and said, "oh yes he was. He even traded the cowboy hat and cowboy boots for the Cinderella dress!"

Oy.