My Little Royal

Aliza got up to watch some of the Royal Wedding with me Friday morning.  She was there in time to see Prince William and Princess Catherine in the horse-drawn carriage, riding down the street, smiling and waving at the thousands of onlookers and fans.  She was impressed.

"Wow, I could get used to that."  She said.

I don't know how she's going to ever be a princess though, when she's decided she doesn't like princess-y dresses.  Her First Communion is this weekend and our dress shopping adventure yesterday was painful.  All the church-appropriate dresses she didn't like.  The dresses she likes are more nightclub appropriate.

"This is for church.  You're not auditioning for "All That Jazz,"  I told her when she begged for a tight little green dress that shimmered with sequins and glitter.

What can I say.  She's a dancer.  Dancing has taught her that sparkly things are pretty.

If she should ever find herself with a gig singing the blues in a nightclub in New Orleans, something tells me she'll have no trouble finding the perfect dress.

P.S. - Why am I not surprised there's an official American Girl First Communion doll?