Nina's preschool class was learning about all things beachy and aquatic. I missed the flashing neon sign about "dress up beach day," so a disappointed Nina entered the classroom in her usual school clothes.
Not one to miss a dress-up occasion, she declared the following Monday another Beach Day. I explained that it actually wasn't beach day and she'd be the only one dressed up. "No," she said, "I need to wear a bathing suit."
This was a day for me to choose my battles. It was 30 degrees -- maybe -- so I said she at least had to wear pants and a sweatshirt over the suit. She acquiesced and promptly put on flip flops and headed out the door. I packed some tennis shoes, socks, a heavy coat and gloves and we headed to school.
I, of course, knew that it wasn't Beach Day, but it seemed to be news to Nina when she entered her classroom. She shyly walked back to me, head hanging low, and said, "No one else has a bathing suit on."
"I know," I said. "I tried to tell you." She looked back in the classroom, then back at me and asked, "Can I take my pants off now?"
Her moment of mortification had passed. She was ready to rock the bathing suit.
So there's my Nina, marching into class wearing only a hot pink bikini, a sun hat, and flip flops. She sat next to a kid wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, but she didn't give a damn.