Ever since he was born, Lincoln has gotten called a girl. Every time we go somewhere, it's she's so cute (while he's dressed in clearly boy clothes, some even go so far as to say I'm a Boy on them). I don't know if it's the curly hair, or the big eyes, or the combo. I find it so ironic that the day he asks me to paint his nails pink like mama's, that he got called a boy at the grocery store.
Side note, if your nail polish is chipping and terrible looking your two year old won't mind when his looks bad too, it just "matches" mama's.
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