I took all our pictures and blog posts over the past year and had it published as a photo album.
I'll do it again next year too.
However, this post will not be included.
The Princess would be mortified.
So let's not let on we know.
Yet I feel completely at ease sharing this little tidbit with my blog followers and loved ones (sometimes they're two separate entities).
I have prerogative.
The Princess has a wonderful, incredible school teacher whom we shall name Saint McKay.
Saint McKay has 18 children all day long and amazingly she usually finds all of them amusing.
I have a sixth of what she has.
And I'm absolutely not a saint.
Today, after I'd spent quality time listening to The Princess and two class mates drone for 45 minutes in what's labeled, "Reading Group" but is actually slow torture for those who are advanced readers, Saint McKay pulled me aside.
"I have to tell you something, but let's step outside. I don't want her to know we're talking about her." Saint McKay is made of a more decorous material than I.
So we stepped outside to the hall and she lowered her voice and said, "Friday The Princess came up to me and said,
"I have something in my underwear."
"Well, do you want to go to the restroom so you can . . ."
"No . . . I'm afraid to look.'
Saint McKay thought this was hilarious, much more than amusing.
She also took The Princess to School Nurse.
School Nurse asked The Princess what was wrong and when The Princess was too abashed to reply, Saint McKay said in her behalf as way of explanation, "We're too afraid to look."
Which explains everything because Friday evening, The Princess held up an unidentified pair of panties and asked me to wash them so she could return them to School Nurse on Monday. I obliged but chose to not get an explanation.
I'd been too afraid to ask.