Last night, while playing cards with my brother’s children, his youngest, Mik, told me, “You’re pretty.”
Now … while on the surface this isn’t any special thing– it’s as cute as can be but not special– if we look closer and we know a little bit more about Mik it definitely becomes almost an important “milestone” in my life.
How so, you may ask? I’ll explain:
Mik, simply put, is a womanizer. He loves women. He loves to look at women, he’s a “kissy boy,” he likes Barbie dolls, etc. We don’t know, yet, if he’s just enthralled with admiration for the female gender or if he’s a TS in the making; either way, it’s there, and he’s definitely a connoisseur of beauty.
Knowing this, I guess, then, that my previous statement isn’t true– there is something special about his statement, but from my perspective it’s far overshadowed by the broader picture that this encompasses.
The first time I went down to my parent’s house as a woman, Mik told me in no uncertain terms, after staring at me for two minutes at the remarkable change that had occurred, “You look weird.”
From looking “weird” to being “pretty” by this child is a big and glorious step. Hmmm … I should probably put that on my calendar, shouldn’t I?
I even needled him about it last night, “Oh? I don’t look weird any more?”
“Nope,” he replied.
“That’s good,” I said, smiling.