skirt

Justin went clothes shopping with me and we decided a casual, knee-length skirt might look cute on me. We selected one and I wore it. Justin had taken Juma to school in the morning, so when I picked up Juma after lunch, he saw me for the first time in the skirt.

Now, Juma's seen me in dresses and skirts plenty of times, especially in Tanzania (though when I dress up, I usually wear slacks, not dresses--I've always been something of a tom boy). But it's been almost two years since we were in Tanzania last, and for a five-year-old, memories from two years ago are hazy at best.

So when I picked him up from school, he stared at me and looked uncomfortable and confused.

"Hey, buddy," I said, "how was school?"

"Good," he answered, his usual uninformative reply.

"What's wrong?" I asked, probing for his reaction to my clothes.

"What--why--why are you wearing that?" he said.

"What do you mean? This?" I asked, pointing at my skirt.

"Yeah. What--that--why--what is that called?" he replied, confused.

I laughed, realizing he didn't even have a word in his vocabulary to describe my outfit.

"It's a skirt. It's called a skirt."

"Why are you wearing it?" he asked.

"Well, Baba thought it would be cute, and so did I, so I bought it. Don't you like it?"

"Um...I just want you to wear normal clothes," he answered.

"Ah, don't you think it's cute? Baba said it's really cute on me."

"Just...just wear...normal stuff," he advised.

I smiled and assured him I'd wear pants or shorts the next day. But I also bought a cute summer dress. We'll see how he reacts to that.