Are you trying to tell me something?

This morning Little Dog decided to join me in the bathroom as I prepped for work. The decision to join me came shortly after seeing me in the living room with my make up bag. He immediately decided he needed to get in the action.

"Mama, I neeeeed make up." he croons in his best mommy-manipulating sing song.

So I quickly dusted his face with the big brush I use to put on my fancy mineral foundation (ok, the cut-rate mineral foundation I got at Target after running out of the 2x expensive stuff)
It wasn't enough. He asked for more.

"Need more make up, mama"

I comply and give him a twistable cheap-o make up brush of his own with which he begins enthusiastically brushing his own face. The sheer bliss in his smile brightened my morning.

After I finish my morning beautification process, we both go back to the living room where Little Dog shows off his new "make up" to Mr. Dog.

"Why do you think you need make up, Little Dog?" Mr. Dog asks, mildly disturbed by his younger son's new enthusiasm for cosmetics.

"'Cause I a monster," he replies, still brushing his face.

"Well I can get behind that reason" said Mr. Dog with some unappreciated chuckles in my direction.

"Hey now! I wear make up," says a mildly offended me.

Quickly little dog turns to smile up at me (still brushing his face). "You a monster."

Well then give me back my damn make up brush, I must not be done.